Find Me
by diamondwine
Summary: Sequel to "Bolt." Unlikely lovers Draco and Angelina no longer harbor a fragment of one another. Are they still soulmates?
1. Chapter 1

*Musical inspiration for this intro: Uninvited – Alanis Morissette. I figured it sounded dramatic enough to listen to as I began this story.

It had become clear to everyone in the wizarding world that Dumbledore's death was only the first calamity leading towards impending doom. Many students withdrew from Hogwarts for fear of reduced protection after Dumbledore's death. Deep down I couldn't deny that I was relieved to learn that it hadn't been Draco who killed Dumbledore—Harry confirmed. Even so, I had spent my seventh year in Ireland, attending a magical boarding school my parents enrolled me in. I'd been keeping in touch with friends from Hogwarts, only to hear bad news each time I received a letter. The Carrows weren't proving to be benevolent forces and I only hoped that anyone who stayed was surviving. I recalled the Battle of Hogwarts, in which I'd lost so much more than I ever knew was possible. I remembered seeing Draco during the battle, when he and his parents ran from the castle, curses and bodies flying everywhere. I don't know that he ever saw _me_, but did it really matter? Fred's funeral was one of the saddest days of my life. I couldn't recall having cried so much as I gave my condolences to the Weasleys, Ginny's face so bereaved that I didn't recognize her when we hugged. I knelt in the grass by Fred's gravestone, George sitting beside me. I wondered if I'd ever stop crying. It felt like I never would as I gripped his hand. It was strange seeing him like that; I constantly imagined a laugh upon his face, the way he and Fred generally were, but that was so far gone that it was almost like I didn't know him. Weeks passed and I grieved. I grieved with my family and I grieved with my friends. I spent so much time with the Weasleys after Fred's funeral that I started to feel like one of them. For the first time in over a month, I walked into the store that George had neglected to open. He turned on the lights and turned in a complete circle, taking in all of the things he and Fred had created. And he fell to his knees and sobbed. I felt my eyes burn hot but they didn't cry anymore; I'd reached a point where I didn't really have any more tears to cry. Instead it was just painful to constantly think about friends I'd lost. I sat on the floor beside George and didn't say anything. There was no real comfort to offer, so I just pulled my arm round his shoulder and let George cry. He was leaning against my chest, and soon became so heavy there that I could barely support his weight and slipped over against the dusty floor. George looked down at me, his eyes reddened from crying so much. He breathed and just looked down at me. A heavy tear rolled out of my eye and he kissed my closed mouth. He looked at my face a minute, questioningly, before he kissed me again. There was no more pain in that moment. It was only feeling, and what I felt was George's weight on my body like a shield of some sort. I didn't want any more pain in my life—I couldn't have survived it, and I was sure of that. I felt protected for once. The pain eased somewhat. George placed his hand behind my head and held it, deepening his lips into mine. It was so unexpected and I didn't know what else to do, so I just let it happen. I hadn't been so close to anyone like this since…Draco.


	2. Chapter 2

*I don't understand why so many people are opposed to the pairing of Angelina and George. It was never actually clear that she and Fred dated, aside from attending the Yule ball together, and even if that _had_ been the case, I disagree that it makes her a slut or a bad person because she ended up with George. It takes two to tango, which implies that George took a liking to her as well. Fred died; both George and Angelina loved him, and his death broke everyone, I'm sure. I think that George and Angelina found solace in each other, which I hardly consider abominable. Even if she had been dating Fred, it's not like they were married. It saddens me to think that so many people would rather her have ended up alone and for George not to have recognized that they shared something in common, thus bringing them together. Alas, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and writing their own stories. I'm feeling somewhat inclined to make this story end sadly just because I find it irritating when people bash the idea of George and Angelina together. Who knows? She may end up with no one at all. I write for the people who honestly enjoy what I do. But I also write for myself. All of that being said, this is not a George/Angelina story, it is a Draco/Angelina story. And now I'm done talking about that.

Bell, Book and Candle – Eddi Reader

George's lips on mine felt somewhat unsure and I could understand why. He sat up carefully, lifting my head off the floor.

"Angie," he started, blinking at me.

"It's okay," I said, beginning to stand up. George's eyes followed me but he stayed put on the floor, until I walked over to something that was covered and started to pull the dusty sheet off of it. George and I didn't speak again until Ron and Hermione showed up, Harry and Ginny a minute or so later, and finally Bill with Fleur, Percy, and Charlie. George had asked us to help him out in the store. When we were all standing in the same place, George cleared his throat and called us to attention.

"You're all here because you think I want to reopen Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," he began, and a pang filled my chest as I knew I was about to hear some bad news.

"George, what do you mean, _think_?" Ron asked, taking a few steps towards his brother, who closed his eyes slowly and just stood there for a few seconds. He looked down at the floor, folding his arms.

"I can't reopen this store so long as Fred isn't here to help me with it."

I heard Ginny gasp, and then start to cry.

"Wh-what?" Ron asked fretfully.

"Hang on, George. What are you saying?" Bill put in.

"I can't," said George firmly, angrily, although I knew he was just trying not to break down again.

"It wouldn't be the _same_," he said, turning away and walking towards the register. I looked over at Ginny who had her face buried in Harry's chest where she wept.

"George…it was _his_ dream, too. How can you go and throw it away like this?" Ron asked, his eyes blazing with rage, and also tears. Hermione stood there unsure of what to do or say. George wasn't facing us. He had his arms crossed and was staring ahead at the wall.

"But you can't!" said Ron, hurrying around the counter to face George, who merely shook his head.

"It's too soon, that's all," said Ron, raising his shoulders.

"No, it's not," said George, turning to face Ron.

"It was _our_ store. It's not possible without Fred…It reminds me too much of him, and I can't handle it," he admitted, before starting up the stairs to the flat he'd once shared with his twin and slamming the door shut. Ron stared into space angrily. I couldn't believe George would just give up like that, on everything he and Fred had worked for. I shook my head, starting up the stairs. I was going to talk some sense into him. When I reached the flat door, it was locked. I used my wand to get it open and found George standing only a few feet inside the door, staring at everything, thinking of Fred.

"Just go away, Angelina," said George quietly. I wondered how he'd known it was me; he hadn't even turned around.

"How'd you know it was me?" I asked, saying aloud what I was thinking.

"You're stride. It's rather unique," he said blankly.

"George, think about what you'd be throwing away—"

"_No!_" he said angrily, spinning around to reveal his tear stained face.

"Just get out of here and don't come back if you're not going to help me get rid of all this stuff," he spat. I felt my heart crumble a bit as I fell back against the wall, surprised by George's outburst. His eyes totally glazed over and I knew he would start to cry again. But I turned my back and hurried down the stairs before I had the chance to see the tears fall, nearly crashing into Ron on my way down. I went outside into the alley, wiping my eyes and taking deep breaths. I couldn't go back there, not merely because I couldn't help George pack up the store, but because it hurt so much to think that Fred was actually gone and wouldn't be coming back. I stopped around a corner in the alley, not even sure which way I'd turned. All I knew was that I was overcome with grief, so much that it stopped me and my heart literally hurt as the tears flowed out of my eyes. I blinked and was glad to find myself alone. No one had to see me like this. Once I was able to regain my composure, I realized that I had stalked into Knockturn Alley. I hadn't even realized where I was. The place was utterly deserted. I slid down the wall, feeling a sense of complete hopelessness. I was all alone and I just wanted somebody to be there for me, somebody to tell me it would be alright. Draco popped into my head, as he occasionally did. I realized at that moment with extreme pain how much he still meant to me, and then it hurt even worse when I realized that I had no idea what had become of him. I closed my eyes, trying not to think. I heard somebody walking towards me. Whoever it was paused.

"Angelina? Angelina Johnson?" said an unfamiliar pleasantly deep, yet soft voice.

I looked up to find Blaise Zabini staring down at me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"…I suppose that's hardly any of your business," I said carelessly, quickly wiping my eyes.

"Are…are you alright?"

"Why would _you _care?"

"Hey, I'm not the enemy," he said abruptly.

"What side were _you_ on?" I asked, leaning up off the wall. I didn't have the patience to deal with any more Slytherins, but then it occurred to me that this was the first time I'd ever directly interacted with Blaise. It was new to me. All I knew was that he had been a Slytherin, and friends with Draco.

"You know, not _every_ wizard out of Slytherin turned out rotten. Did you ever get the memo about Snape?" Blaise asked me sarcastically. I sighed. _No use in fighting_, I thought. The Armageddon was over; good had triumphed.

"Look, I should get going," I said unsurely, but stopped when I started in one direction, not knowing where the hell I was headed. I turned in the other direction and realized I was equally as lost. Blaise looked at me, waiting for me to ask him for directions. I stopped and sighed, thinking it would probably be best to apparate.

"Would you like some tea?" Blaise asked. I looked up at him.

"You look like you could use refreshment."

I was curiously intrigued by his kindness.

"…I guess it couldn't hurt," I shrugged.

"I know a place," Blaise said, and I followed him deeper into Knocturn Alley, totally unknowing of where I was headed.


	3. Chapter 3

Blaise led me somewhere for about three minutes. Knockturn Alley was much bigger than I realized, not that I'd ever been there before. I recalled last Christmas when I stood in front of Knockturn Alley, that freezing night, hoping I might somehow run into Draco. It all seemed like a decade ago, and I couldn't believe it was only near a year ago. Blaise stopped walking and pulled open the door to a rather bleak looking building. The cobblestones it was made out of looked gray with age, and didn't quite help to pick up my dreary mood.

"It's much better inside," said Blaise after I'd stood there a second too long.

"Really," he said, gesturing for me to walk inside.

"Go on," he said, gesturing with his head. I had the faintest sensation that I was walking into some sort of trap, but something urged me on and I stepped inside, not without placing my hand on my wand beneath my cardigan in the built-in compartment where it rested. I quickly realized that no harm would come to me as I stared around an empty café, and I took my hand out of my cardigan. It _was_ rather posh looking on the inside. I wondered why there was nobody in there. The atmosphere was bright, vaguely reminding me of the common room back at Hogwarts, though there was nothing Gryffindor-esque about it. I stepped inside slowly, however, hearing the door close gently after Blaise. There was a counter where someone with familiar rich dark curls stood with her back to me, reaching for something on a shelf where I could see an assortment of teas with their labels on ornate tins. Romilda Vane turned around, as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

"Angelina Johnson," she said.

"Romilda," I said with the same tone of surprise. Blaise laughed shortly and walked round the counter to meet Romilda, who wiped her hands off on an apron after setting a tin of tea down on the counter. Though she was half concealed by the counter, I noticed her stand on her toes to give Blaise a hug. Something flickered in me; disgust or complete shock? I wasn't sure which. It quickly occurred to me that she and Blaise were…

"What are you doing in Knockturn Alley?" Romilda asks me, pulling away from Blaise and walking round the island to get a better look at me. She hugged me lightly, with loose arms. It was one of those empty hugs, the kind where you'd have preferred the initiator of the hug not to have hugged you at all. It felt empty, but I was certain that it was because of the awkwardness of the situation.

"I haven't seen you since the battle," she said. I blinked looking around the café.

"What are you doing here? What's this?" I asked her. Blaise had disappeared with the tin of tea through a double door that swung lazily at his absence.

"This," Romilda smiled.

"This is my café," she said, busying her hands by tying her hair up into a bun atop her head, "Zabini's, to be precise."

"I hate to say it, but it doesn't look like business is booming," I said.

Romilda shrugged, but there was still a small smile on her face.

"Well, not many people come round Knockturn Alley anymore. You know, not since…"

Her smile dropped a bit.

"Voldemort," I said fearlessly. I thought I saw her swallow thickly, as if she'd bitten off more than she could chew of something.

"Wait…why are you _here_? Couldn't you just have placed a shop in Diagon?"

Romilda blushed for a bit.

"You know, Blaise offered me this place. We ran into each other a while ago. Our mums were good friends for ages," she said, her voice saddening and her eyes falling to the ground.

"You see, my mum, well…she didn't quite make it through the battle…I didn't even know she and Blaise's mum were friends until they showed up for her funeral. Strange, isn't it?" she said, this faraway look in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," I said honestly. I couldn't have fathomed what it would have been like to lose _my_ mum or dad in such a horrible way.

"Me too…I'm sorry about Fred, too," she said. My heart jumped with pain for a second or two.

"I-I can't imagine what George must be going through. Or any of the Weasleys," she said. _George_. I wondered how I managed to forget all about him until that moment.

"He's trying to hold up," I said. Romilda didn't say any more about the deceased.

"Blaise has gone and made some tea. I hope you'll join us for a cup, on the house?" she said, honing in on the disheartened mood I was in.

"Thanks," I said, nodding.

"Romilda…I don't mean to sound rude or anything…but _Blaise_?"

"I know what you must be thinking. But the truth is he's been there for me. I don't think I would've made it this long after the war if it hadn't been for him. It's not like I haven't got the rest of my family, but…just because he was in Slytherin doesn't mean he's a bad person. I was skeptical at first, but he has a good heart," she said, placing her hand over her chest, unaware of the motion she made. I was sure she felt her heart beating, the way I'd often felt mine beat when I thought about Draco. Romilda's eyes were wet for a second or two but she blinked back the tears.

"Let's have a seat, yeah? Want some lemon bread? I've just made a loaf," she said, returning to the counter and disappearing behind the swinging doors that Blaise had gone through moments before. I stood in the middle of the café for a few seconds before walking over to a seat. I paused, finding a cat sitting on the cushions of a little window seat. I hadn't noticed it before. It was pure white with these odd eyes. They were sort of gray, maybe blue-green like some sort of little planet all their own. The cat eyed me without turning its head as I took a seat. I sighed and pushed my hands through my hair, placing my elbows on the table top. I heard the swinging doors again and Blaise walked towards the table I was sitting at, carrying a pearl teapot. It shined as the light peeked through the clouds and in through the circular windows of the café. I really took in the surroundings and realized just how rich they were. The walls were this light tan sand colour, making me feel cozy as if I were at the beach. The floor which I hadn't noticed before appeared to be a polished pearl. I'd never expected a place in Knockturn Alley to be so bright and inviting.

"Chamomile," said Blaise, placing the teapot in the center of the table. He then pointed his wand behind the counter and summoned over matching teacups. They looked so polished that I thought I'd be blinded if I looked at them too long. I glanced into my teacup which shined like the inside of a seashell.

"Thanks," I said as Blaise summoned over the sugar bowl and a gold spoon floated into my tea which began to pour itself. I gazed over at the cat, which was still looking at me. Its pink triangular nose seemed to be sniffing a bit.

"It's beautiful, but it must have a cold," I said.

"What?" Blaise asked unsurely.

"The cat," I said.

"Oh, no, he's fine. Don't mind him," said Blaise uninterestedly, taking a seat on the other side of the table. Romilda came back with the lemon bread, which also looked unbelievably rich. She grinned, taking a seat as I eyed it.

"One of my mum's recipes," she said, starting at it with a knife and placing little saucers, which matched the teacups, in front of Blaise and I. I took a bite and had to close my eyes to revel in the pleasure of its taste.

"So how have you been?" Romilda asked me, pouring herself some tea and dropping three sugar cubes into it.

"Uhm…alright, I guess," I said. "Been spending a lot of time with the Weasleys…what about you two?" Romilda and Blaise looked at each other for a second and smiled. It was one of those deep looks that could only have happened between two very connected souls, and I felt a twinge of jealousy and nostalgia as I looked on at them.

"Just opened this place three days ago," said Romilda.

"I don't expect it to be full until word gets out. But the alleys have been pretty clear since the battle. People are still grieving with their families."

And didn't I know it.

"Have you spoken to anyone else from Hogwarts?" Blaise asked, "You weren't there for the last year."

"Er, I've kept in touch with Katie, and Alicia. I've heard from Luna a bit, but it seems like everyone's just sort of taking time off," I said.

"What about _you_?" I asked, looking directly at Blaise. I had to think of a way to ask him about Draco without actually mentioning him. I thought it might have been suspicious, but I just had to know where he was.

"Your crowd that you were always hanging around with; what's become of them?" I asked.

"Oh," said Blaise, glancing down into his tea. He thought for a minute. Romilda placed her hand atop his on the table and I saw a glint of a smile before he answered.

"Crabbe, well, he's old news. He was really one of Draco's friends, not mine. I heard he died in the Room of Requirement the night of the battle. Made a mistake with a spell, or something…Goyle, I haven't heard from him, but I know he's alive. Pansy, well, she's gone off the radar. I think she might be…" Blaise didn't finish his sentence.

"I don't know that I care; the Parkinsons and the Goyles were among those few Slytherin families who were _really_ true followers of Voldemort. Everyone else just stuck around out of fear. As for my family, we never really got involved. Glad we didn't," Blaise admitted. He didn't say anything about Draco. I couldn't figure out how else to mention him without really saying it, so I just asked.

"What about Malfoy?" I said, sounding somewhat malicious, though it wasn't how I felt inside. Blaise looked over at Romilda again. They were both expressionless.

"I dunno," said Blaise, shrugging. He seemed entirely uninterested in Draco's whereabouts and I felt my heart sink. The white cat that was sitting over on the window seat jumped down and made its way to Romilda, sitting there, looking up at her until she picked it up.

"I was with him at some point during the battle. We found each other. He was scared out of his wits. I've never seen him so scared. It scared _me_. He didn't want to be there at all, he just wanted to get his wand back from Harry." It was strange hearing a Slytherin call Harry by his first name, and without contempt.

"I dunno what happened to him. Think he got away with his parents before it was over. I saw them looking for him." Blaise sighed.

"I haven't heard from him since," he explained.

It was like taking a photograph when I blinked at Blaise and Romilda, who sat stroking the cat that now had its eyes closed in contentment as she scratched behind its ears. They looked happy together. I suddenly felt determined to find Draco. He _had _to be alive. Regardless of what might happen, I needed some serious closure.


	4. Chapter 4

When I left Romilda's café, I couldn't stop thinking about Draco. I realized it was getting late; the sun was setting. I apparated to my house. As I started towards the stairs, I tripped over something. I looked to find myself having landed on a ton of trunks and suitcases. "Angelina?" My father said, rushing out from the kitchen, my mother shortly after.

"…What's all of this?" I asked, standing and brushing myself off.

"Are you okay?" My mum asked, stepping closer. I nodded. My parents glanced at each other.

"Taking a trip?" I asked.

"…Mum, dad?"

"Trinidad and Tobago," said my mum.

"Oh…we're going for a visit to see nana?" I asked. My parents were silent a moment before my mother stepped forth and placed her hands on my shoulders. I started to feel worried. She sighed.

"No, love," she said, smiling slightly.

"We've decided it's time to move."

"_Move_?" I asked.

"Yes, baby. Move on," said my father, approaching me.

"What do you mean? Why would we leave?"

"We're going to let you choose, Angelina. But your mother and I decided that we just can't stay here anymore. Not since Hogwarts…we only wanted to keep on in England until you finished your last year of schooling. Honestly, we were considering moving by the end of your sixth year, but we didn't want to pull you out of the environment you were used to, take you away from your friends," my dad explained clearly and calmly.

"Yes, and when we left after the battle, we didn't see a purpose in staying where so many friends have been lost…there's too much pain here," my mum continued. I thought about the Callahans, a quiet little half-blood family that lived in the house up the street from me. They'd been wiped out by Death Eaters a few days before the Battle of Hogwarts. I remembered playing in the summertime with the little girl, whose parents moved into that house around the time I started going to Hogwarts. With a twinge of pain in my heart, it all started to make sense.

"We've been here these past near two months because we knew how much you wanted to be there for the Weasleys, ever since…" my mother could not finish her sentence about Fred. She stood to her full height, trying to be strong, but I saw the tears well up in her eyes, and they never came out.

"Did you ever give him that expensive blazer?" she asked me with a small smile. My heart ached even more when I remembered the time that Draco had hidden in my bedroom closet, his blazer left on the post of my bed, my mum coming in and finding it there, the lie I'd told about having bought it for Fred. I stared ahead with my eyes starting to burn with the urgency to weep.

"Angelina," said my father. He had a hand on my shoulder, as did my mum. They were asking me to leave with them, to leave the house where I'd grown up all those years. A tear escaped.

"I don't want to go," I choked out, trailing off into a whisper.

"I want to stay _here_."

"We haven't packed your things," said my mum. "We wanted you to decide. Perhaps it would be best for you to stay until you're sure whether or not you'll join us. As for your dad and I, we're leaving tonight," she finished.

"I just…I just want to stay," I said, stepping between both of my parents before they could hug me. I felt their eyes on my back as I ascended the steps.

"There's something I've got to do," I said, staring up at the spot on the banister where I'd once begged Draco to let me fall. The thought of taking my life now was not an option. I needed to find Draco. I went into my room, wishing he'd be there waiting for me as he had been before, but when he wasn't, I just collapsed to the floor and wept. My heart ached so much I thought I would die from the sorrow. I disapparated thinking desperately of Draco; it was how he'd found my room before, but I never landed anywhere near him. I first found myself on the grounds of Hogwarts, near the Womping Willow. I disapparated again and only found myself at the Leaky Cauldron. It became a frantic frenzy as I apparated all over creation, until I disapparated a final time and found myself sitting on the floor of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. The lights were off and it was nearly completely dark. I don't know why I'd gone back there; no one appeared to be around. I didn't know where else to turn or who to go to.

"Angie?" a voice said after a silent moment. The lights went on with a flourish of George's wand and I saw him walking towards me from somewhere. It occurred to me that he'd been sitting in the dark. He rushed to the floor where I sat sobbing and before I knew it he was next to me.

"Hey, it's going to be alright," he said, though his face was hardly comforting as the tear-red eyes looked upon me.

"No, it's not," I said, pushing him away when he tried to comfort me. My heart was breaking with ever breath I took. I just wanted to be with Draco again. I finally gave up trying to resist George's comfort and he embraced me. It was a warm solace where my face rested on his shoulder and I calmed to a stop.

"Why are you still here?" I asked. George looked out of the shop window.

"…My brothers convinced me to keep the store. So it's going to stay. I'm not sure when I'm going to open it again. I was just too upset to realize how much it would mean to Fred if I kept it going."

It wasn't that I didn't feel relieved to hear this, but all I could think about was _Draco_.

"Look at it," said George and I dried my eyes and looked around the store. Its magnificence was still intact, and I realized for the first time that the floor had been cleaned. There was no longer a layer of dust on the floor or shelves.

"That's great," I said as cheerfully as I could, considering how I was feeling.

"Angie, I…"

George stared down at me.

"What?"

"I'm…I'm sorry about what happened," he said, blinking slowly.

"About what?" I asked.

"When I kissed you," said George. I looked away. It wasn't that I didn't have feelings for George, but those feelings were deeply friendly. I thought of him as blood, like family. There had been a short time when there may have been something more between Fred and me, but it never amounted to what I'd shared with Draco, or anyone else for that matter.

"It's okay. It was nothing," I whispered, sniffing. George was silent. I looked up. He kissed me again. I pulled away; I didn't know how to tell him how strange it was for me. How could I have possibly told him that I was in love with Draco, the man whose aunt made an attempt on Ginny's life?

"I'm sorry," said George swiftly.

"It's…it's because of him, isn't it?" he asked, closing his eyes. My heart jumped for a minute. _How could he have known about Draco?_

"Who?"

"It's about Fred, isn't it?" George asked me, without opening his eyes.

"You were in love with him," he said, finally looking down at me.

"What? No," I explained.

"No, it wasn't like that. George, it wasn't like that."

"It's okay. I understand," he said, "You could never be with me because I remind you of him."

"No, George. You're not getting it," I said, slowly pulling out of his arms.

"I was never…Fred and I weren't together like that."

"But I thought…"

I shook my head.

"It wasn't that way. You know how much I cared about him…and I still do, and I care about _you_ too, but it wasn't that way," I said as easily as I could without hurting him.

George stood up after eying me for a moment. I wanted to know what he was thinking. He started towards the register, pointing at something with his wand and then a small set of fireworks went off. They were quiet and nice to look at, changing the subject.

"So what were you so upset about?" George asked me. I started towards the register after him, pausing when I saw a photo of him and Fred on the counter that hadn't been there before. They were standing proudly in front of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.

"Angelina?" said George.

"What? …Oh, my parents. I went home and they—they're leaving. They're going back to Trinidad, to stay. They asked me if I wanted to go, but I can't leave," I said, trying not to tear up again.

"Why?" George asked me. _Because I need to see Draco Malfoy_.

"I just can't up and leave. I grew up in England. I'm not ready to leave it," I said. I was hoping George didn't think more of what I'd said. I was hoping he wouldn't try and read into it in ways I didn't mean. Something about the way he was looking at me said that he was…

A week passed and most of that time I spent in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, helping George stock up and clean for reopening. At times, I'd catch him looking at me in such deep ways. It made me nervous, to be honest. I'd convinced him to let Harry and Ron, and Hermione help out in the store. George hadn't seemed too receptive to the idea at first, and I wondered if he only wanted _my_ company and for what reasons, but I never asked. He eventually decided it would be fine for Ron to help out. He'd said he just didn't want to feel like he was trying to replace his twin with his other brother. I assured him that it would never happen; Fred was hardly replaceable. Even so, there were times when George just made me feel so nervous that I'd leave the shop for a walk. I wasn't sure how to talk to him without hurting his feelings. I had the impression that he thought perhaps I just needed time before I could think about him the way he thought about me. As much as I cared for him, there was only one person I needed…

I walked into Zabini's with a sigh. There was a witch sitting at one of the tables. I'd never seen anyone else there before, but she looked to be around my age. She watched me walk up to the counter where Romilda was restocking sugar cubes. I'd thought about telling others about her store, but it sort of became a place where I could get away from George and the joke shop for a breath of fresh air. I didn't want to compromise that.

"Romilda," I asked quietly.

"Yes?" she answered just as quietly.

I was going to come straight out with it and ask her again if she'd seen Draco around, but my mouth only hung open a bit and remained silent. I shook my head. Blaise came out of the kitchen in busboy attire, carrying a dish of what appeared to be peach pie to the sole customer sitting at a table in the café.

"Is something wrong, Angie?" Romilda asked me, closing the sugar bowl and shelving it.

"No—I'll just have some tea," I said.

"What kind?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter to me," I said.

"Are you sure?" Romilda continued. I nodded briefly and went to sit at the window seat. I looked out it, wishing Draco would just walk down the street, and I'd run out of the café to meet him. I heard a soft noise and looked with shock to find the white cat sitting on a cushion at the opposite end of the window seat. It looked up at me intently.

"You scared me, kitty," I said, staring right back at it. Its eyes were transfixed upon me, and mine on it. It was a beautiful cat. There was something unreal about it that I couldn't quite place. The witch who had been sitting there when I came in got up to leave, and I watched her walk away further into Knockturn Alley. I started to think crazily, of ways that I might try and find Draco. I couldn't come up with any clear ideas, but suddenly I thought _why not ask Goyle?_ I recalled Blaise saying that he knew Goyle was still around. All I had to do was ask where about. He'd have to know where Draco was. As far as I knew, he'd been one of Draco's closest friends.

"White tea," Romilda said, bringing the teapot towards me, a smile on her face. She poured me some, even put the sugar in it, noting the deep contemplation that I was in.

"Is there something you want to talk about, Angie?" she asked me, taking a seat beside me at the window.

"No…it's just been a bit stressful, you know? My parents have been gone for a week; they went back to Trinidad, and I've been running round ever since trying to help restore Fred and George's place, and I've been going mad trying to—" I cut myself short, grabbing the tea and taking a hot sip, burning myself and shouting as it spilled from my lips down my blouse.

"Careful!" Romilda said.

"Let me get you some ice for that," she said, hurrying away to the kitchen. Blaise was wiping clean the table where the witch before had been sitting. He returned to the counter when the little bell above the door tolled, signaling a new customer. I glanced over where a woman came through the door. My heart stopped when I saw her. I'd only seen her once before, but I couldn't possibly mistake her with that familiar nose and blonde hair; it was Draco's mother. She looked around the café, her eyes catching mine for a moment, before approaching Blaise at the counter, whom she smiled at in a friendly way. She must have known Blaise, because the next words that came out of her mouth caused me to stand up on my feet.

"Draco. Have you seen him?" she asked, placing both hands on the counter top. She leant in towards Blaise with intense anticipation for his answer. I took a few steps closer to hear what Narcissa Black was saying.

"A few days after Hogwarts, he left. He hasn't come home since," she explained. I wasn't the only one looking for Draco. Blaise's eyes trailed over to me oddly, and I was sure he knew something. Narcissa's eyes travelled slowly over to me where I was standing by the window for a moment. She stared at something, and at first I thought she was staring at me, but as I followed her line of vision, I found her looking at the white cat. It stared back at her with slanted eyes. They looked damn near angry.

"No," said Blaise, interrupting the moment.

"I haven't seen him and I haven't heard from him."

Narcissa looked distressed then.

"Blaise, please," she said, grasping his hand desperately.

"I need to find my son. He's never done this kind of thing before," she explained, her voice thickening the way one's voice thickens before she weeps.

"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen him. If I do, you'll be the first to know," Blaise said with sympathy. Romilda rushed out of the kitchen with a pitcher full of ice, pausing upon seeing Mrs. Malfoy.

"You, girl, have you seen Draco Malfoy? You went to Hogwarts, did you not? Draco Malfoy, have you seen him?"

"I'm sorry, Narcissa, I haven't," said Romilda straightly. Narcissa seemed somewhat surprised at the quickness with which Romilda answered, and the fact that she'd used her first name. Narcissa's eyes followed Romilda with what seemed like aggravation as Romilda made her way over to me with the pitcher. I'd completely forgotten about my burnt lip. I was watching Narcissa whose eyes lightened up on the cruelty when she looked at the cat again, sitting at the window seat. I glanced back at it and noticed its eyes had closed.

"You back there, have you seen Draco Malfoy?" Narcissa asked. I turned around.

"Answer me," she said impatiently, letting go of Blaise's hand stepping away from the counter and towards me.

"You know who Draco is. Have you seen him?" she asked me. She knew just how infamous her family was when she asked me if I'd seen Draco. I shook my head for no. Narcissa stared at the cat again for a few seconds, Romilda looking at her in confusion before she turned and disapparated out of the store.

"Here, for your lip," Romilda said. I felt something cold touch my lips. I had been oblivious to her. I just wondered where Draco could have been if his own family didn't even know.

"Angie," said Romilda, wiping the front of my blouse dry with a dishtowel.

I heard a familiar exhalation behind me and began to turn around slowly. Draco stood there with his eyes closed. The cat was no longer sitting at the window.


	5. Chapter 5

"_Draco_," said Romilda in a dissatisfied manner, placing the pitcher of ice on a nearby table. Blaise stalked over.

"Why are you revealing yourself _now_? Do you not see who's here?" he asked, implying myself where I stood in shock, about ready to pass out. Draco opened his eyes.

"Did you see your mum just now?" Blaise asked.

"She was _that_ close to recognizing you. I was sure she did," Blaise explained. I looked on in disbelief. Blaise and Romilda had known it all along; they'd known _exactly_ where Draco had been.

"_What's going on_?" I asked impatiently, my eyes burning. Draco looked at me with such remorse that it caused me to actually cry.

"I thought you didn't want anyone finding you," Blaise said to Draco.

"Can you two please just…give me a moment?" Draco asked.

"Alone, with Angelina."

I felt my eyes widen as Romilda and Blaise walked straight into the kitchen, disappearing behind its doors. They had known the whole time where Draco had been and didn't tell me. It quickly became clear to me that he hadn't wanted to be found. He'd seen me walk in and out of that café a few times and never said a thing. Draco took a step towards me and I backed up, falling onto a table top, I was so shocked.

"Is it really you?" I asked.

"Lina," Draco said and I took such a huge breath that I thought my lungs would explode. Out came the cry I'd been holding back as Draco approached me. He paused, realizing how much it was for me to see him there. I thought I was dreaming, so I pinched myself.

"I'm here," Draco said in a comforting tone. I shook my head. For a moment, when even his mother couldn't find him, I'd honestly been afraid he was dead. I shook my head in disbelief. Why hadn't I realized earlier? I knew there was something familiar about the cat the first time I saw it, but I never knew it was Draco.

"I've been looking for you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Draco stayed where he was as if afraid he'd cause me a real heart attack if he came any closer.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Why did you…why?" I asked.

"_Why_?" I asked angrily then.

"You were hiding from me," I said, sitting up off the table. Draco shook his head and never took his gaze from mine.

"I'm _so_ sorry," he said, his eyes glazing over.

"I didn't want to cause you any more pain," he explained.

"All I ever did was hurt you…I didn't want to be found. Blaise is the only person I could trust not to tell anyone where I was. He just lied to my mother for me. I couldn't trust anybody else. I needed time away; I had to get away from my family, and that house…" Draco paused, his eyes becoming distant before he fixed them back on me, and as I had many times before, I felt aflame, though the stare was icy blue and penetrating.

"I don't understand. I was _looking _for you," I said again impatiently, "You have no idea what it's done to me. I thought I would never see you again."

"I didn't think you wanted to," Draco explained, taking another careful step towards me, watching my reaction and pausing before taking another step.

"When you took away the fragment of your soul and returned mine, I couldn't feel you anymore…but I still loved you. And then you left. You didn't come back to Hogwarts. I had _no_ idea where you were or how to find you. I never even saw you at the battle—"

"I was _there_. And I saw _you_," I said.

"I was too scared. I never found you. After that, I wasn't sure whether you were alive, or…"

Draco took another step until he was only about a foot away from me. He reached out carefully and slowly and touched my cheek.

"You have no idea how badly I wanted to fix things between us…when Voldemort lost, all I wanted to do was find you and fix things, and I _couldn't_," Draco admitted. My tears leaked out onto his hand.

"I thought you were dead. I didn't know what to do with myself. I thought about killing myself, but I wasn't brave enough. I was still hopeful I'd find you someday…I just wanted to disappear. When the war ended, everyone's true colours began to show. I knew that I couldn't trust Goyle or anyone else I knew from Slytherin, except Blaise. The other Death Eaters, they weren't going to give up just because Voldemort was defeated. And they're still out there, trying to find a way back, trying to find a way to decimate half-bloods and muggles. I didn't want anything to do with it, so I confided in Blaise and he let me stay here in disguise. I just wanted to fall off the radar from everyone else...I couldn't believe everything that had happened. I even went to Fred Weasley's funeral."

My mouth fell agape. I wondered how I'd never seen Draco there.

"I saw all that pain. I saw you crying, and I couldn't help but realize that part of it was _my_ fault…I couldn't put you through anymore, so I told myself I'd disappear, even after I'd finally found you…And then one day you walked in here. I just wanted to reveal myself and start all over, but I thought about all the pain I've caused you, and I didn't want to do it again," Draco said. He let his hand drop from my cheek.

"I think you deserved much better than me…it didn't matter how much I loved you, we were on different sides. Even though I never wanted to be on the wrong side, I knew that I was and there was nothing I could do about it. That fact alone made it impossible for us," he said, looking down at me once more, his voice growing softer so that I had to lean in a ways to hear it.

"Angelina, I'm so sorry," he said honestly, and a single tear dripped slowly down his pale face.

"…" I was at a loss for words. I didn't know what to say.

"I can't keep hurting you," he said.

"I want you to know that I never meant to," Draco explained. I was still crying at that point. Draco glanced over at the window. I looked over and saw that someone was coming. When I looked back to Draco, he wasn't standing there anymore; he was the white cat again. He resumed his spot at the window seat as Pansy Parkinson stepped into the café, some other snooty-looking witch behind her. The bell above the door tolled and she paused to see where it was coming from. Blaise and Romilda rushed back out in time to meet Pansy and her friend at the counter. Blaise spared a glance over by the window and looked relieved to find that Draco wasn't still there in his human form.

"Have you seen Draco?" Pansy asked Blaise straight away.

"No," he responded brazenly. I had a feeling that he and Pansy were not on good terms, despite the fact that they'd been in the same house.

"You're lying," said Pansy through gritted teeth. I'd only just found Draco. I refused to lose him again. I picked him up from the window seat. He meowed, caught off guard by the swiftness with which I'd grabbed him.

"I think you should go," Romilda said.

"Who are _you_ to speak to me?" Pansy asked, staring daggers at Romilda.

"What betrayal, Blaise?" she asked.

"Is she even a pureblood?"

"Just because we were both in Slytherin doesn't mean I feel the same as you do about blood purity," said Blaise, "If you're not going to order something, I suggest you go," he said. Pansy scoffed.

"We asked you a question," said the other witch.

"And he gave you an answer. If you're not going to have a cup, you can leave my café," said Romilda calmly.

"If you weren't a pureblood…" Pansy trailed off. I immediately recognized the dangerousness of her darkness and it told me that though the war had ended, evil still existed.

"You think you can rise to our ranks now, just because Blaise is rich and pitied you enough to give you this place," said Pansy pretentiously.

"That's enough," Blaise retorted.

"If you see Draco, tell him I've been looking for him," Pansy spat before she and the other witch turned on their heels and walked out of the shop. The cat had been feeling rather tense in my arms. I watched Draco's eyes as he stared out the window, Pansy and the girl she'd come into the café with appearing to carry on a casual conversation as they walked away down the alley. Draco did not return to his human state when I put him down. Instead he looked up at me and purred.

"You know I can't understand a word you're saying."

Blaise came over, looking down at Draco.

"You're lucky, _again_," he said, stooping to Draco's level on the floor.

"They must've been on your tail—no pun intended," Blaise said coolly.

"How else would they have known to come asking here if they didn't have some idea of where you might be?"

Draco simply sat back on his hind legs and let out a loud meow. I would have laughed, had it not occurred to me just how serious a situation this was becoming. Draco made a frustrated noise and brushed past my legs, starting towards the kitchen. He paused and looked back at me, meowing when I didn't follow. So I started after him and he made his way behind the counter. I followed him as he passed through the kitchen doors, where there were no windows to be seen through. When I came through the doors myself, I found Draco standing there, having resumed his normal state once more. He readjusted his hair for a minute.

"I can't keep at this. Someone is going to find me," he said, more so to himself than me. Blaise and Romilda stayed outside the kitchen, leaving Draco and I alone.

"Why don't you want your family to know where you've gone? Clearly, they think something's happened to you," I said. Draco sighed with exasperation.

"…You said there are still Death Eaters and they're still active…would that happen to include Pansy?"

Draco looked away.

"Look, I don't want you to get mixed up in my mess again. I—"

Draco looked incredibly frustrated. He was clearly nervous.

"You know, I stayed here in the hopes that I'd find you," I said.

"I could have moved away with my parents a week ago, but I couldn't leave without knowing…"

Draco gazed at me intently.

"You should've gone," he said at last. My heart throbbed.

"There's nothing more for you here, except pain; endless pain that it wasn't fair for you to have experienced."

"Why would you say that?" I asked in complete shock, stepping towards Draco.

"That's…that's why my parents left. Why should it matter? Even if I'd have left, I never would have stopped wondering where you were, wondering what happened to you…"

I took another step and slowly reached for Draco's hands. He let me take them, and they were cool, but in a comforting way.

"I…I'm still in love with you," I said quietly.

"It's why I couldn't move on, or I would have by now. I had nearly an entire year since Dumbledore died to try and get over you, but I never did. When I was away from Hogwarts, you were still on my mind. You were still in my heart. How can you say there's only pain left if there's you?" I asked, finally touching his soft hair, which had grown a few inches, touching his shoulders. Draco closed his eyes, reveling in my touch. He turned his head and his lips gingerly touched my palm.

"I have too much baggage. I've done terrible things, some things you never even knew about… I have a past. I still haven't figured out how to get away from it. I can't put you through _anymore_, Angelina," he said, looking down at me and carefully pulling my hand away from his face.

"Draco," I said, feeling my heart begin to sink.

"Are you saying you don't want me anymore?" I didn't want to believe that it would destroy me if the answer had been that he didn't.


	6. Chapter 6

"No, Lina—I didn't say that at all," Draco admitted hastily. But I felt like I my heart was far beyond broken.

"I _cannot_ make you cry anymore. It's always been my fault, the way you've suffered—"

"No it's not. Draco, you may have hurt me a million times, but you didn't kill Dumbledore, and you didn't _want_ to do all those things. You _had_ to, in order to survive. I may not have understood it then, but I do now—and I forgive you," I said.

"You shouldn't," said Draco darkly, "I could've gotten you killed—just for being with you."

"_But you didn't!_ What are you saying to me? Are you saying that you don't want to be with me?"

"I want to be with you more than I've ever wanted _anything_!" Draco shouted desperately, angrily, and I knew that he was angry at the circumstances.

"Then _be _with me! Don't leave me again."

"I can't. I want you to find someone—"

"No!" I sobbed.

"Someone who's not going to hurt you just for being who they are—"

"Draco, no—"

"Someone who's going to love you without it being forbidden—"

I slapped him across the face, hoping I'd slap some sense into him. Draco looked down at me, his eyes a bit wider, but he didn't look surprised that I'd hit him.

"You keep saying you don't want to cause me any more pain and you don't want to make me cry, well you're doing so by telling me that you can't be with me. Don't you get it, Draco Malfoy? I don't _want_ anyone else!"

He was silent a moment, and there was such bewilderment on his face. It felt like eons had passed before my feet were off the floor and I was in Draco's arms, his mouth smothering mine, and I would have gladly suffocated. We were an awkward dance as Draco stumbled until my back hit the wall and I wrapped my legs around his waist. No one had ever kissed me the way Draco did. It was lascivious but loving at the same time. I felt my nerves explode as his hands wandered up the back of my blouse desperately needing to make contact with my skin. Draco scratched me gently and I moaned into his mouth. Every breath I exhaled he stole, and every inhale he took I tasted. I hadn't had these feeling since the last time we'd kissed. I was crying so much all the while, out of sheer happiness to once again feel Draco's lips on mine, to hear him say my name and touch me all over. Draco pulled me off the wall without warning and proceeded towards the nearest surface, a counter, where he placed me, not minding the flour that still sat in a mess there. I shoved a measuring cup out of the way and reached under my skirt, pulling my panties down, Draco meeting me half way and pulling them off over my flats, knocking them off my feet. He forced me further back on the counter, my head pressing against the wall when Draco started at my neck, the tickle of his lips everywhere. We were already panting so much that it was all I could hear. I ran my hands down his chest and unbuttoned his pants. I'd forgotten all about the fact that we were in a kitchen, Blaise and Romilda hopefully not hearing any of this outside in the café. I rested my heels up on the counter and looked up into Draco's eyes as he touched me. I grabbed his wrist with both hands, growing wet quickly. I pulled at his shirt and tore it so the buttons flew off. Draco finished pulling his pants down and grabbed me by the waist, pulling me closer until I felt him inside of me. He moaned quietly, the same moan that had echoed in my ears since the last time we were together. I tried as hard as I could to remain silent, but let out a few low cries when Draco swayed his hips between my thighs. I clamped onto his shoulders and bit gently into the flesh of his bicep to quiet myself. Draco whispered to me these sweet things that aroused me further, things no one had ever said to me. I threw my head skywards and grabbed the middle of his back, biting my tongue as to keep as quiet as possible. Draco began to thrust harder and we looked into each other's eyes unremittingly until we finished. I sighed, feeling his release. There was relief in my heart that I hadn't felt in about a year. Though in need of breath, Draco snatched up my chin and kissed my lips deeply. He suckled on the bottom one for a moment and I pushed my hands repeatedly through his hair. We'd needed to be close to each other so badly. My legs had fallen asleep by the time he let me down off the counter, but I didn't care. Draco held me there and I leant against him to steady myself, the heat emanating off his body making me want to go to sleep. We watched each other as we got dressed again. I pointed my wand at Draco's shirt and fixed the buttons. We stood there and looked at each other a while in what seemed to be utter amazement, both our brains exploding at how incredible we were together.

"Angie?" Romilda's voice came from by the kitchen door. I looked past Draco but didn't see her or Blaise standing in the kitchen. I felt my face flare up and only prayed that neither of them had heard us. I grabbed Draco's hand and started out of the kitchen, Blaise sitting over by the window where Draco had been before as a cat. The curtains had been pulled over the windows, creating a slightly darker atmosphere than before. Neither Blaise nor Romilda seemed at all surprised by the fact that I was holding Draco's hand. I realized that he must've confided in Blaise quite a bit.

"So what do you want to do now, Draco? You can't hide forever," said Blaise, taking a bite of a ruby red apple.

"I'm not sure yet," Draco said.

"But I can't stay here. The way my mum looked at me…I'm sure she knew," he said. I felt his grip on my hand tighten a bit.

"You can stay with me," I said.

"My house is empty now, and I wouldn't mind having a cat."

Draco turned back to look at me with a small grin before he thanked Blaise and Romilda, and I apparated to my house, able to bring Draco in with me. As soon as we got there I wondered about it and asked him.

"You said you couldn't find me before…why didn't you just come here?" I asked.

"I thought about it, but I couldn't get in when I tried to apparate," said Draco, looking at me from the corner of his frosty eye before taking in the rather empty surroundings of my house.

"I think before I was able to because there was a part of you in me. Maybe it kept the anti-apparating charms from blocking me," he said.

"What's going on here? Where is everything?"

My parents had nearly cleared out the house.

"Remember, I told you my parents left?"

"Oh, right," Draco said, closing his eyes for a second and pinching the bridge of his nose, and I sensed that familiar stressed out air about him.

"So there's no one here," he said, stepping a little ways into the den where there was a couch and a less than half full bookshelf.

"It's just me," I assured him. Draco stared ahead at the case, his back to me.

"Is something wrong?" I asked after a moment of silence. Draco turned around but kept quiet.

"Draco, you know by now that there's _nothing_ you have to keep from me."

"I know that, Lina. It's just that I'm not sure how to come back from everything that's happened. I can't undo my past. I've been thinking about it ever since you left me," he said and I felt a pang of guilt for a moment, "I want to redeem myself, I want to show everyone that I'm really not bad. I've never been evil, not for real…I feel like I owe so many apologies. I just don't know how to do it."

I approached Draco and wrapped my arms around him. He held me as well and I felt his chin atop my head.

"You don't have to prove yourself to anyone. I know who you are," I said.

"And I'm sure of that, but I can't live the rest of my life without trying to make amends with Harry and anyone else I've wronged in some way."

Draco passed his hands slowly down my back, as if trying to make sure that I was real.

"You have no idea how happy I am that I found you," Draco said, holding me tightly to his chest.

"I promise, I'll never hurt you again…will you help me?" Draco asked, pulling back for a minute to meet my gaze.

"What? Anything," I said, knowing that I meant it from the depths of my soul.

"Just help me set things right."

"Of course," I said, but when I thought about George and how I'd once again completely forgotten about him, I knew it would be hard news for him to hear.

"And there's something else, something I'm afraid might be happening," Draco began. The light feeling I had since we left Romilda and Blaise came back.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Death Eaters. Pansy was looking for me, and I know the Parkinsons weren't the only ones who were true believers in Voldemort and dark magic. If she's looking for me, they _will_ find me," he said.

"And I'll be damned if I let myself fall under the orders of evil again…I'm scared for you. That's why I never approached you at Fred's funeral. That's why I tried to stay away," Draco admitted. I could see clearly how conflicted he felt. He just didn't want anything to happen to me, and I couldn't blame him, as I didn't want anything to happen to him either.

"If my father finds me, it's all over. He's a coward. He'll do anything to stay in the high ranks, even if it means making his son attempt murder." I thought about Draco's failure in taking Dumbledore's life and cringed. Though I'd known about Voldemort before, I hadn't realized just how dangerous it was for Draco and me to be together.


	7. Chapter 7

That night I slept in Draco's arms for the first time in a long time. It was easier for me to fall asleep, instead of trying to stay awake out of fear that he wouldn't be there when I woke up…However he wasn't there when I woke up, but I quickly relaxed when I saw his clothes still sitting on the chair in the corner of my room.

"Draco?" I called. My voice was barely awake. We'd stayed up rather late, talking and filling each other in on the past year we'd spent apart and I was still sleepy.

"Draco?" I said, wiping my eyes and stepping out of my bedroom door. The sun was shining in through the oculus window in the ceiling, illuminating the hardwood floors like some sort of magic. I glanced down the hall where the bathroom door was open, Draco standing there in his boxers, holding something in his hand with his back to me. I smiled and approached him. He became clearer the closer I got. Finally I stopped at the doorway and he turned his head to the side upon hearing me. I gasped and Draco turned back to the mirror, his hands moving in fierce swift motions. The floor was littered with platinum blonde hair, and I noticed that it was the pair of barber shears that were usually in the mirror cabinet in Draco's right hand.

"D-Draco," I said, clasping my mouth in shock.

"Why are you cutting your hair?" I stepped into the bathroom and Draco stopped, placing his hands on the sink. I got nervous and took the shears from him before he could inflict any more damage.

"I'm…I'm starting to look like my _father_," he said, closing his eyes tightly as if to wish it away. I thought of Lucius's long blonde locks, but to me Draco looked nothing like his father; he was only blonde like him. I took a look at Draco's hair, which he'd done a choppy job of cutting.

"I don't want to look like him," Draco said quietly before looking up at his face in the mirror with some strange horror of an expression.

"I'm _nothing_ like him," he spat at his reflection angrily. "I _can't_ be."

"You're not," I said calmly, sitting the shears slowly atop the toilet before placing a hand on Draco's shoulder, finding the scar I'd asked him about and never really gotten a straight answer. He turned to face me.

"You don't think I look like him?" he asked me honestly. I shook my head. Draco stared down a moment.

"It's going to be okay," I said, closing in towards him and wrapping my arms around his neck. Draco hugged me back.

"Although if you wanted to cut your hair, you should've let me do it," I said. I felt the vibrations of Draco's small laugh.

"I love you," he said. It didn't matter how many times he said it, my body still swooned and my head lightened as if I'd pass out. There were no real words to describe how he made me feel. I looked up at Draco's hair, passing my hand over it and a chunk went flying off. Draco frowned.

"I'm sorry. Do you hate it?" he asked, scrutinizing my expression, which I guess was still rather shocked.

"No. I still think you're gorgeous. Don't worry, I can—I can fix it up," I said, brushing off the strays. Draco's lips curled into a smile.

"Here, sit down," I said, kicking the lid of the toilet seat down. Draco sat and I grabbed the shears, carefully cutting places he'd missed and making it as even as I could with what was left. He looked a bit eccentric when I was finished, but he was still my Draco. I put the shears back inside the cabinet and stood in front of him, hands on my hips. He grinned at me as I took in the sight of him.

"I guess it'll have to do," I said, fighting a laugh.

"Unless you want me to bring some of it back magically."

Draco shook his head before passing his hands over the top.

"As long as I don't look like my father," he said, standing up and turning towards the mirror to take in his reflection. The smile on his face faded and was replaced by a hard and dark look.

"I'm sorry," I said. "You hate it."

Draco shook his head.

"No, you did fine," he said.

"It's _me_ I don't like—that's what it is." I felt so sad suddenly as Draco glared at himself in the mirror. I could practically feel the hate emanating from him.

"What have I done?" he said to himself.

"I'm a horrible man."

"Draco?"

Before I had the chance to comfort him there was a loud shattering noise and Draco pulled his fist back from the now destroyed mirror. His expression remained unchanged as slowly, but surely, blood began to surge from his clenched fist. He let it fall slowly to his side, staring at it, not an ounce of pain on his face.

"Draco!" I stepped towards him on instinct to start at the wound but gasped and fell back when I stepped on shards of glass with my bare feet. I screamed.

"Angelina!" Draco cried, turning around with fear in his eyes when he saw me sitting there, nursing my feet which were now cut from the glass. Draco pointed his wand at the glass and the mirror quickly repaired itself, becoming intact as it had been seconds before. He rushed over to me and knelt there.

"Oh god—I'm sorry," he said. My feet were bleeding. In one swift motion, Draco scooped me up from the floor and rushed down the hall back to my room to tend to my feet. He healed them and the cuts disappeared. It stopped hurting, but I looked down at Draco where he continued to point his wand at my feet, conjuring gauze which slowly wrapped around them. His hand was still bleeding; he didn't even seem to notice. It was obvious to me how troubled he was, even after Voldemort had been destroyed.

"Your _hand_," I said, grabbing my wand off the nightstand. Draco sighed as I took his forearm and started to try and mend the hand. I had never really tried to heal wounds before with magic, and as badly as I wanted to, all I managed to do was stop the cuts from bleeding. I scoffed with aggravation, flourishing my wand. Finally Draco took it from me and put it back on the nightstand.

"It's fine," he said, becoming aware that I couldn't heal him.

"It's _not_—there's glass in it, Draco."

He sighed.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have broken the mirror. I said I'd never hurt you again and look, I've just gone and done it again," he said, chastising himself.

"No," I said sweetly, lifting his chin to take his gaze away from my bandaged feet.

"Draco, what's wrong? You're not a bad person. You need to stop thinking like that. It's driving you mad."

"It doesn't matter what I do. I keep hurting people. I'm so sorry."

"It was an accident, honey," I said.

Draco's eyes filled up and tears poured out. He fell towards me and sobbed. I wrapped my arms around him, slipping off onto the floor where we were at the same level. He totally broke down; I'd never heard him cry audibly the way he was then and there. He had to be feeling lost, ashamed, awful. But he was no longer the boy who'd been forced to do such evil things. No one could control him without Voldemort. He was free. It would take time for him to realize that. All I could do was be there and comfort him. He held onto me so tightly that it was nearly uncomfortable, but I just sat there and shushed him, rubbing his head and back. Though we were no longer connected by the souls, I could feel his pain. It was sharp like a knife to the heart. My own eyes filled up with tears, but I wiped them away quickly, swaying from side to side gently.

"I'm evil," Draco said, sniffling.

"No you're not! Don't say that," I said, lifting his face to look at mine.

"Don't say that," I said firmly. I wiped the tears from under his eyes and he calmed down. He was quiet for a moment, casually gripping my waist and brushing his thumb over my hip bone with his uninjured hand.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Stop apologizing. It's not necessary."

Draco sighed.

"Merlin, I think I would die without your love, Angelina. Not even my own family makes me feel good…good about myself. I've always just done what I was told, whether they were good things or not. I didn't want to disappoint my parents. I've always had to deal with this terrible image of being evil…It makes me believe that I _am_."

"You're not," I said again.

"How do you know?" Draco asked, looking deeply in my eyes.

"How do you know I'm not just a monster? At times…it felt good to hurt people—people who've made me angry…" Draco's hand tightened on my waist for a moment and I thought of the time when he had strangled Cormac McLaggen, the countless times he must have bullied Harry.

"You're not a monster, Draco."

"How do you _know_? I've done things that I lie down at night and wonder how I was able to do them, and not to care how much it hurt somebody."

"I've seen who you really are. You're not a monster because monsters aren't capable of love," I said, "All those times we snuck away together…You tried to protect me, kept me a secret. You wouldn't have done if you didn't love me," I said. Draco wiped his eyes dry and smiled the smallest bit.

"I've never cared about anyone the way I care about you…perhaps my mother, but even then…" Draco shook his head and leant in to kiss my forehead. I reached for his hands, forgetting about the one that was still cut up, and Draco winced.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, letting it go. Draco looked down at it, finally giving it attention.

"Try and fix it, like you did my feet," I said, picking up Draco's wand from the floor and handing it to him. He put it right back down, closing his eyes.

"I don't…I don't know. I feel like I deserve this."

He didn't see me look at him like he was crazy.

"_Draco_—"

"I'm not going to heal it," he said adamantly, opening his eyes again.

"Then I'm taking you to the hospital. Get dressed," I said, standing up. Draco merely looked up from where he sat on the floor.

"You _can't _be like this. If you want to make amends, you have to start with yourself," I said, grabbing his arms and causing him to stand up.

"Come on," I said, "Get dressed while I go wash my face, and then we'll go."

When we arrived at St. Mungo's, Draco followed me to the emergency room. I showed the nurse his hand and she stared at Draco, wondering why he didn't seem to be in pain; it looked rather mangled. She told us to wait in the waiting room and that a healer would be with him shortly, but I knew how emergency rooms worked and I wasn't going to sit there for four hours and wait, so I demanded that we see a healer right away.

"It was gushing blood," I said, showing her Draco's hand.

"Lina, it's _fine_," Draco said, attempting to calm me down.

"No—he needs to see a healer _right now_," I demanded, pointing to the shards of glass in Draco's knuckles. The nurse gave up trying to tell us to wait and motioned for us to follow her to a small hospital room. She said to wait there for the healer and Draco sat down on the bed.

"Are you alright?" I asked worriedly. Draco smiled.

"You really take charge when you have to. I can't tell you anything," he said admiring me.

"It looks bad," I said, picking up his forearm to examine the hand again.

"I can't believe you did that," I said, shaking my head. I felt Draco pull his other hand through my hair. In about a minute, the healer came to the room, a nurse beside him. I recognized the nurse immediately and she froze on the spot and stared at me and Draco.

"Ginny," I said, surprised to see her. Draco's eyes widened a bit and he looked like he wanted to leave. The most disgusted expression washed over Ginny's face as she gawked at Draco holding my hand. The healer called her over, trying to get her attention as she was carrying something he needed to use. She just stared at us and I had no idea what to say.

"Hello, Ginny," said Draco calmly.

"You know my name?" she asked, eying him angrily.

"Of course I do. You're a Weasley, aren't you?" Draco asked casually.

"Ms. Weasley, I'll need the mender," said the healer, as I backed away from Draco so he could tend to his hand. Ginny snapped out of glaring at Draco and brought the healer what he needed.

"Essence of Dittany," said the healer after picking the glass out of and cleaning Draco's hand with some sort of solution.

"Might sting a bit, lad," he said. Draco did not wince once as he watched the healer take care of his hand.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked me, still surprised to see me, let alone with Draco Malfoy.

"Why are you with _him_?" she asked, shooting a mean glance over at Draco once more. He only watched calmly. I was sure he couldn't have expected her reaction towards him to be any different than it was.

"I didn't know you were a nurse," I said, noting her uniform.

"Yeah, I've been helping out down here the past week. There are still a lot of people who got hurt in Hogwarts…why are you here with him? Am I _seeing _things?" Ginny asked. The healer handed Draco the bottle of Dittany.

"Two drops in the morning, two drops at night. Use it until the scaring is gone, and you'll be fixed right up," the healer instructed before starting out of the room. Draco stepped down off the bed and Ginny backed up, nearly tripping as Draco approached me. He maintained a calm demeanor, but Ginny was looking at him like he was a monster.

"Ginny, _please_," I said, "You didn't see anything here, okay?"

"…You're…you're mental, Angie. Don't you know who he is?" she asked me, talking about Draco as though he wasn't even there and pointing accusatorily.

"Yes, I do," I said.

"When did this happen?" she asked me, and the way she said it made me feel like I'd committed some huge betrayal.

"It's exactly what you think," Draco said, answering Ginny's unspoken question.

"But I'm not who you think I am. You don't have to despise me," he said.

"Ginny don't say anything to anyone," I said, not wanting terrible rumors to be spread. It would've impeded Draco's chances of redemption.

"Does George know?" Ginny asked.

"What? What do you mean?" I asked, wondering why she would bring up George.

"He doesn't even know," she said, answering the question herself.

"Were you planning on telling everyone you were dating the enemy?" she asked. I felt as if she'd slapped me in the face.

"He's not the enemy. You don't know him—"

"I know who he is!" Ginny yelled.

"How could anyone forgive me, Lina? I don't blame her," Draco said.

Ginny stared at him in absolute disbelief again before hurrying out of the room.

"Ginny—!"

"Let her go," Draco said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"But—"

"She knows now. There's nothing we can do about it. In time I'll prove that I'm good and this won't even matter," Draco said, wanting to calm me down. I thought about it and assumed he was right. But it also caused me to fear that word would get out and sooner or later, the people from Draco's past would turn up. I wouldn't have been prepared for what was going to happen when they did.


	8. Chapter 8

*Music inspiring this chapter: Corpse Master – True Widow

At night Draco showered and lay on my bed on his back with his hands folded over his abdomen, and as I pulled off my towel and started dressing in my PJs, he looked like he was waiting for something. I wasn't sure whether he was asleep or not, so I reached for the Dittany on the nightstand which I knew he'd neglected to use again. I crawled into bed and sat beside him, uncorking the bottle. As I filled the dropper, his pale hand reached for the bottle, frightening me, as I had been too busy measuring the fluid in the dropper.

"I'll do it," Draco said softly, sitting up and taking the bottle and dropper from me. But he turned so his bare back was to me and I didn't trust that he was doing it. I placed my chin on Draco's shoulder in time to find him simply closing the bottle. He sighed when I caught him.

"Draco, what's this about? You have to be nice to yourself too."

"I don't deserve—"

"Don't say it again," I said forcefully.

"But I did this to myself. I should have to deal with the consequences of my actions. I never had to before…"

To this, I wasn't sure how to respond. Draco leant over and placed his elbows on his knees, sighing and brushing his hands over his head, causing my chin to shift over his shoulder. He was so warm and comforting, though it was a heat-filled summer night. I kissed his shoulder, and then the nape of his neck lingeringly, feeling his pulse jump at my touch. Draco began to sit up again as I rubbed his shoulders, rubbing out the tense points that I felt. He started to relax and I inched closer, letting my legs fall over the bed on either side of him.

"That's nice, Angelina," he said, sighing again and tilting his head to the side. The neck cracked, and Draco cracked it in the opposite side, loosening up.

"Oh, I didn't know you could do that," I said curiously.

Draco turned his head to the side and glanced at me through the corner of his eye, something he did often when his back was turned to me.

"There's still a lot you don't know about me, Angelina," he said lowly. It sounded so morbid, and had I not known him as well as I did by that point, I would have been scared. But I wasn't. I paused in rubbing his shoulders, noticing once again the scar on Draco's scapula. I brushed my thumb over it and Draco began to turn around. I pulled my legs back over the bed. He pulled me towards him for a kiss. I couldn't take my mind off the scar I'd seen so many times, and as I thought about it, Draco's lips sinking into mine, I opened my eyes. I was surprised to find his still looking at me even while we kissed; he must've known that I was going to ask about the scar again.

"Is something wrong?" Draco asked.

"Every time I touch that scar, you move so I can't see it," I said, just coming right out with it. Draco glanced down and his eyes shot back and forth rapidly for two seconds.

"I remember you told me something about your father—"

"I don't want to talk about it," Draco said shortly. He looked away from me with a sigh and stared at my closet door for a moment before pulling the quilt back and pulling me with him underneath it, without another word.

"Lina…I just want to go to sleep and forget everything for a while, yeah?"

I nodded and didn't say anything more, but lay on Draco's chest when he pushed the covers back. He held me and I felt safe and sound as I dozed off…

I was awoken by strange movement. It felt wet beneath my cheek and I sat up slowly in bed. Draco was tossing back and forth in bed.

"Draco?" I asked. I turned on my lamp to realize that he was still asleep; his eyes were closed. Draco's hands gripped the sheets so tightly that I could see the veins beneath his skin, and the wounds from punching the mirror bled afresh, his teeth clenched and a grimace upon his face. His brow was sweaty and there was sweat all around him. I'd gotten drenched myself since I'd been lying on him.

"N-no! No, I won't…w-w-won't do it! You can't—!"

There was an agonized groaning that came out of Draco's mouth and then I knew I had to wake him. I shook his shoulders but he stayed asleep, nightmaring. In a panic I grabbed my wand off the nightstand and pointed it at Draco. He sat up wide awake, but wide was an understatement; his eyes looked like they might explode for a second, they were open so far. Draco panted, grabbing his left arm and observing it, rubbing it madly for a minute. I remembered the Dark Mark I'd seen there, which was no longer extant, and Draco relaxed a bit upon realizing this.

"Draco?" I said carefully, starting around the bed towards him.

"Baby, your hand."

"I'm gonna be sick," he said. Before I could get to him, he darted out of my room with his hand over his mouth. I stepped out into the hall and heard Draco running towards the bathroom. He pulled open the bathroom door and the light turned on. I walked swiftly down the hall, where I already heard him throwing up. Before I made it, Draco got up and closed the door.

"Are you okay? Let me in," I said worriedly.

"No, Lina, it's fine. Please go back to sleep," he said in the calmest voice he could manage, which really wasn't very calm. I sighed. He wasn't going to let me help him, just like before with his hand. I felt helpless and my eyes watered. He was really going through a lot. I mentally chastised myself for bringing up Draco's father. Perhaps he wouldn't have nightmared if I didn't mention him at all. When I realized that Draco wasn't going to let me in to check on him, I went back into my room and sat on the bed. I stared at the dark area of sweat and fear on my mattress. I pulled the sheets off and got a new one, throwing the blanket aside. Draco came back to the room, stopping in the doorway just as I was able to pull a clean fitted sheet on the bed.

"I'm sorry about the bed," he said.

"Forget that; let me see your hand," I said, grabbing the Dittany and walking towards Draco. He grabbed my shoulders when I tried to take his hand.

"No, I don't need it," he said.

"Draco, it was _bleeding_—"

"_No_," he said firmly as I was attempting to un-stopper the bottle, snatching his hand away when I reached for it. I started to feel frustrated with him. My eyes welled up.

"Why do you keep shutting me out?" I asked, my voice breaking when I began to weep. Draco was looking at me apologetically then.

"Don't cry—I'm sorry," he said, placing his hands on my hips and kissing my forehead, kissing my temple, my cheek.

"Draco, I just want to help you. I know you're going through a tough time."

He sighed.

"You keep pushing me away when I think it would help if you'd just talk to me."

He closed his eyes.

"I don't want you worrying about me. I just want you to go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Stop apologizing!" I said, reaching a breaking point.

"I _know_ you're sorry. But you want to know something; neither of us is sorry about this. I understand how much pain you've been through—I've been through pain too, but if you keep shutting me out, it's going to pull us apart," I said, Draco wiping each tear away as they fell out of my eyes. He looked remorseful at that point.

"We haven't changed a bit," he said quietly, "_always _getting into fights."

At that I couldn't help but smile, what I knew Draco had been aiming to make me do.

"Yes, but don't try to change the subject," I said.

Draco pulled me closer and kissed me.

"I just…I don't want to scare you," he said.

"What? There's nothing that could possibly scare me. Nothing that has to do with you," I said, smoothing his eyebrows.

"Why would you say that?" I asked.

"They're horrible things, Angelina," he said honestly.

"I don't want to hurt you any more than I have."

"You couldn't," I said, smiling a bit.

"…maybe we should talk about this later, in the morning," Draco said. I knew he didn't like to be pushed so I decided to come off it.

"Alright?" Draco asked.

"Just let me see your hand," I said again. This time Draco didn't resist as I gingerly clasped his hand and administered two drops of Dittany to the cuts. They closed up again and looked a little less severe.

"Happy?" Draco asked me somewhat sarcastically. I held his uninjured hand as I walked back to my bed and crawled in. Draco turned off the lamp before getting in next to me, but he didn't lie down completely; he stayed up on his elbow, allowing me to rest my head against his chest.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, looking up at him as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and even so I could make out his icy eyes without blinking twice.

"I'll let you fall asleep, and then I'll take the couch downstairs. I don't want to wake you up again if I have another nightmare."

"_Draco_. Please say you'll be here when I wake up," I said, sitting up.

"I don't want to make you lose sleep," he said. I sighed with discontent; Draco knew that sigh.

"Okay," he agreed and I lay back down. He rested his head on a pillow and pulled his arm across my waist.

"I just don't want to make it harder for you to sleep," he said again.

"I'm worried about you; it'll make it difficult for me whether we're in the same bed or not."

Draco kissed my forehead and I held onto him tightly until I went back to sleep. I was glad to still find his arm strewn across my waist when I awoke. He was already sitting there watching me wake up, grinning when I blinked in his perfect face.

"My love," he said. His mood had done an entire three-sixty, and it was almost hard for me to believe that it was only a couple of hours ago that he'd nearly had a panic attack.

"There's a problem," Draco said. I sat up immediately to meet him.

"What?"

"I need some more clothes. There's no need for me to stay a cat all day, now that I'm here, and I'm not going to my house," he added, running his hand down my arm. I wondered how I hadn't noticed as Draco sat there in his boxers.

"Mhmm," I said.


	9. Chapter 9

*Wrote this chapter yesterday but it was nearly 3am by the time I decided to proof read it before publishing. Soundtrack to this chapter Pretty Face – Sóley

I didn't bother to tell Draco that I really didn't want to go to Diagon Alley, for fear of running into George, or Ginny. But I decided that since I hadn't heard anything new from either of them, George was still unaware of Draco and I. Draco walked beside me down the alley. It still wasn't as crowded as usual. But as we stepped on, I hoped we wouldn't run into George. Draco stopped in front of Twilfit and Tatting's, but paused before going inside.

"What is it?" I asked. Suddenly he turned around so that his back was facing the window.

"I shouldn't go in there; my parents are frequent customers. I wouldn't be surprised if my mother has already asked if they've seen me. I don't need her to know where I am. Not right now," said Draco, grabbing my hand and heading in a different direction.

"Okay," I said, eying him and hoping his worried expression would ease up. He glanced down at me from the corner of his eye, noticed me looking at him intently, and gave me a smile. He gripped my hand a bit tighter for a few seconds. I wished he wouldn't try and pretend he was totally okay when he wasn't. I was waiting for him to broach the subject of last night and his nightmare. Draco sensed as well as I could that there were things we still needed to talk about. It was the only way to progress positively as a couple. Draco led me into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and I wondered how well they'd cater to what he was used to. He always had an expensive style and it looked odd to see him walk through the door.

"You're a woman; help me pick something," Draco said, his eyes flitting over all the robes and materials. I giggled a bit.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked, blushing when I looked at him. Even his ears reddened.

"Nothing. I just think you're cute," I said, standing on my toes to kiss his cheek. We must've spent a good twenty to thirty minutes in there, even Madam Malkin giving suggestions before I saw a familiar flame atop the head of a tall figure. George stepped into the store. He didn't see Draco and me by the fitting rooms in front of the mirror.

"…think I sometimes prefer wearing Muggle clothes," Draco said, cocking a brow at his reflection in the sea-green robe he was trying on. I watched George walk up to the counter where he started talking to Madam Malkin, probably asking about some robes. I saw him laugh. I felt something cup my hip and looked over to find Draco trying to get my attention.

"I don't think this is my colour, Lina," he said.

"Come to think of it, I don't think green was ever that great of a colour for Slytherin," he said, looking down at himself. I heard George's laugh from where I was standing. I wished he'd have walked right out of the store. I heard the fitting room door close and turned slightly to find that Draco had gone back inside. I felt stupidly when I realized how relieved I was that he was out of sight; I had to stop worrying about being seen with him. We weren't in Hogwarts anymore and Draco was a completely different person than his reputation. If only everyone just knew it. Madam Malkin presented a set of robes from behind the counter to George, who thanked her and proceeded towards the dressing rooms. My heart jumped as he turned and started walking. He was looking at the ground and didn't see me at first, but when he looked up and noticed me standing there, he smiled.

"Angie," he said.

"What are you doing here? Why haven't you been back to the shop? I was just about to send you an owl. I haven't heard from you in a few days."

I couldn't think of what to say. I just looked up at George. He placed his robes on a hook in front of the door right next to Draco's stall, unaware who was in there.

"Are you shopping with Katie? Is she in there trying things on?"

I was about to say something when the door opened and Draco stepped out, buttoning his shirt.

"I think some of these are alright…" he trailed off when he saw George. George jumped a bit in surprise. At first he didn't seem to recognize Draco, and I assumed it was because of his rather drastic haircut.

"Malfoy?" George said. When he was sure it was Draco he was looking at, he glared. Draco did not return the glare. Instead he let calmness wash over, as he'd done when Ginny had practically accosted him at the hospital.

"Hello, George," Draco said, leaving his shirt a bit unbuttoned.

"What are you doing shopping _here_? Didn't think I'd ever run into the likes of you. Isn't it too cheap for your style?" George shot sardonically. Draco took a deep breath, and I did not hear him exhale.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said.

George's face hardened.

"Don't _you_ ever talk about my brother, you piece of rich shit," George snarled, pointing menacingly at Draco, who frowned a bit, but maintained his composure.

"I really am sorry, George," said Draco. "I…I went to his funeral, to pay my respects but I never…I never got a chance to say—"

"Why am I even talking to you?" George asked, and then he looked over at me. I didn't realize that Draco had taken my hand until George's eyes widened when he looked and saw.

"Look, I know it's hard for you to believe…but I'm not this vindictive prat anymore. My deepest sympathies for Fred—"

"Don't _ever_ say his name!" George shouted, although he was still staring in disbelief at my hand in Draco's; Draco hadn't noticed. He was too busy trying to get through to George, who took a seemingly offended step away from the two of us.

"I really don't know what to say. I really am sorry," Draco added again. George spared him a bewildered glance, as if he were unable to believe the words coming out of Draco's mouth.

"Angie…where's Katie?" George asked me.

"I'm not shopping with Katie, George," I said as gingerly as I could.

It became clear to me that Ginny hadn't said anything about Draco and me, but it didn't matter because George had found out, and perhaps not in the way I would've wanted him to. George shook his head and took another step back. Draco finally understood what George was staring at, and opened his mouth to say something, but I beat him to it.

"George," I said.

"Angie, what have you done?" George looked at me in this most betrayed, saddened way that I felt my eyes water and my voice shook. George left his robes right where they were and disapparated. Almost as soon as he'd left, I fell to my knees and sobbed. Draco was at my side instantly, holding me.

"It's okay," he said, "You didn't mean to hurt him."

I couldn't even speak, I was so upset. Madam Malkin rushed over to see what all the crying was about.

"My stars, is she alright?" asked Madam Malkin.

"Yeah—just couldn't believe how well that robe fit me," Draco lied.

Madam Malkin looked on somewhat worriedly for a few seconds as Draco comforted me.

"Er, I'll take the ones on the left hanger," Draco said, pointing inside the dressing room before Madam Malkin rushed in to grab the robes and ring them up.


	10. Chapter 10

* In case you haven't already read the memo on my main page, this will probably be my last chapter for a while. My classes resume this week and I need to be _on point_, because I'm determined, as I always am, to ace everything to the best of my ability. I will not have time to be writing stories every other day, and my updates will probably be limited to the holidays with possible weekends but even then I'm busy. I've been so anxious that I hardly sleep anymore, so I doubt I'll be spending too much time daydreaming about the next step in my stories. This doesn't mean I'm gone, just on a hiatus. Thank you again for reading and reviewing. It's much appreciated.

Draco's POV

I could clearly see that Angelina was thoroughly upset by George's shortness with me. Even whilst I knew I couldn't blame him for reacting the way he did, it started to make me angry. He hadn't even given her a chance to explain. If he liked her so damn much, she at least deserved that. I got her to stop crying and we stood up. I went to the register where Madam Malkin still wore a worried look on her face as she craned her neck from over the counter in the direction of the dressing rooms where Lina was still standing, wiping her eyes.

"Are you sure she's alright?" Madam Malkin asked me. I knew she hadn't believed the story I'd told about Lina crying over how nice the robes suited me.

"She'll be just fine," I said, taking the organza bag in which I kept gold out of my pocket.

"Thank you for all your help today," I said, not waiting for Madam Malkin to give me the change before grabbing the bag she'd put my new clothes in and walking over to meet Angelina at the door. I grabbed her hand and she immediately disapparated to her house. She didn't wait for me to say anything before hurrying up the stairs to her room. I put the bag down and walked up the first three steps, before I heard the door to Angelina's bedroom close. I duly took the hint that she wanted to be alone. I sighed and sat there on the stairs, cupping my chin. And then I recalled her asking me why I kept shutting her out. It occurred to me that Lina just did the same thing to me. I wondered why she had to be so upset about George Weasley. I mean, I wasn't so cold that it didn't devastate me to think about how horrible it must've been for him to lose his brother, but if she was never in love with him…maybe that was _it_. Maybe she _had_ loved him; otherwise I didn't understand why it hurt her so much for him to just take off like he had when he saw her with me. I couldn't help it, my instincts and jealousy started to get the best of me. I didn't want to picture her with George. I didn't want to think of him feeling about Angelina the way _I _felt about her. She was mine and I didn't want anything to interfere with that. George had a whole family to support him, but I, Angelina was all I had left. Once I'd turned my back on my father, I didn't dare go back, nor had I wanted to. I wasn't about to go back to that bastard. It was his fault I'd had to do all of the things I'd done. If he had just listened to my mother, I never would have ended up such a psychotic mess. But he'd been too concerned about maintaining status quo and power, a weak coward persuaded as easily as a moth to the flame to the dark side of magic, to Voldemort. My father hadn't known how much it would cost him, how much it would cost _me_, his only son…as I thought about all of the things I wasn't telling Angelina, I just felt worse and worse. I needed air. It felt like I would explode. I unlocked the front door of Angelina's house and stepped outside into the sun. I walked around until I came round a rather spacious lawn surrounding her house. I noticed that there was a greenhouse around back as I stepped through the stone path of a garden. It was peaceful and I calmed down the further I walked through the aisles of trees and bushes. It looked a bit overgrown but as I approached the greenhouse, it started to feel warmer. I opened the large, crystalline glass doors. There were plants as tall as the ceilings, bending against the roof in their attempts to break free. It was beautiful, except it needed a bit of work. There were edelweiss and violets, pink, red, orange, and yellow poppies and a bunch of other exotic looking flowers. I paused, gently touching a petal and recalling the flowers I'd sent to Angelina through a house elf at Hogwarts. It seemed like such a long time ago although it was only shy of a year earlier. I walked further into the greenhouse, pulling at my collar. It was growing so warm that I decided I'd just take my shirt off. I left it on an empty little glass table. I reached the end of the greenhouse where there was a second door leading further into the backyard. It was all much smaller than the manor I grew up in, but it was beautiful and intriguing in a mysterious way. I stared at all the plants and an idea hatched in my mind. I took out my wand and pointed at the plants scratching the roof. I took them down a bit, shaping them so that they no longer looked so overgrown. I hexed the flowers to give them a bit more life and they swayed around gently, as if dancing. I charmed the dust and grime off the stone floors and they shined. I produced little orbs of sunlight that gravitated towards the plants which then began sprouting towards them and reaching out for the light. It looked even prettier once I'd finished. I started to go back through the greenhouse and into the yard and made my way back into the house. I went up to Angelina's room, where I found the door still closed.

"Lina," I said, knocking. I waited about three seconds before she answered.

"I don't feel like talking, Draco," she said.

I could tell by her voice that she had been crying again. But I turned the knob and the door opened. Angelina was lying with her back to me atop her bed. I approached slowly and carefully. She lay still.

"Lina," I said again.

"I want to show you something. I think it'll cheer you up," I said, pausing right next to her. She didn't say anything. I put my hand on her shoulder and she turned her head a bit.

"Come on. I hate to see you like this," I said, kneeling on one knee. Angelina turned around so I could see her face. The whites of her eyes were reddened from crying.

"Come on. I've a surprise for you," I said, grinning. She closed her eyes.

"Can you bring it? I don't feel like getting up," she said.

"No, you have to come see it. It's outside," I explained, running my hand down her arm.

"Please?" I asked carefully.

"Draco, I really don't want to get up."

I stood and picked Lina up bridal style. She had been taken by surprise.

"D-Draco."

I grinned, immediately starting out of the room.

"You're going to drop me," she said somewhat worriedly.

"I won't."

"Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," I said, unable to stop smiling as I carried her outside and through the yard to the back of her house.

"Draco, I'm serious—"

"Just hang on," I said. I felt like I was carrying a queen to a sacred place, or something special as I casually flicked my wand at the greenhouse doors to make them open.

"Why did you take me out here?" Angelina trailed off when I stepped inside the greenhouse to reveal all the shininess and the lights I'd conjured, the work I'd done to preen the plants. I heard a small gasp escape Lina's lips as I walked slowly through the greenhouse, letting her take in the sight of things. At that point she sat up a ways in my arms, looking around.

"I can't believe I'd almost forgotten about this. My dad built it for my mum when he found out she was pregnant with me, as a gift…he's always tended to it, kept it beautiful...Draco, it must've been overgrown since my parents left."

"That was the surprise, see?" I said, reaching the back of the greenhouse and turning so Angelina could look about the entire glass palace-like house. She stepped down onto her bare feet and admired it, reaching for a white peony which grew towards her fingers and tickled the tips. A smile lighted her face and it didn't even matter that her eyes were still red.

"Draco, it's beautiful. What did you do in here? It's never looked this…magical," she said, moving her hand in different directions, the flower following her warmth longingly.

"It's so alive," she said, touching the petals. She looked so beautiful standing there, her hair a bit disheveled, the deep red cardigan she wore draping off her shoulders to reveal the chocolatey skin beneath. I stepped towards her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She leant into me and her warmness was unlike any other I'd ever felt, despite the temperature inside the greenhouse. She clasped my hands.

"I love it. My parents would love it. Thank you," she said softly. I inhaled and she smelled sweet like the flowers moving mellifluously around us. I kissed Angelina's shoulder, pulling the cardigan a bit lower to reveal more of her skin. Angelina leant back against my chest and I kissed the side of her face. She rubbed her head against my shoulder and I was vaguely reminded of a cat stretching gracefully. Damn, the way she moved. I felt her grip my wrists and then she turned around, standing on her toes to kiss me full on the lips. I felt a deep arousal at her touch and couldn't help but pull her to me as closely as I could. I knew where this was going and grinned against her perfect full lips. She pulled back for a second and looked up at me with her mysterious deep eyes. There was _always_ something so doe-esque and innocent about them that drove me insane in a good way. Angelina never stopped looking at me as she let the cardigan drop from her shoulders and fall to the earthy stone floor. I was glad I'd already removed my shirt and wasted no time starting on my belt, pulling it off so fast that I heard it snap like a whip, Lina before me dropping her skirt, stepping out of her stockings, her blouse following suit. She jumped up to me once she'd gotten completely naked and wrapped her legs around my waist. I caught her casually and slowly lowered to the floor until I was on my knees, leaning towards the ground and never dropping her as we kissed. I had hardly even touched her yet and she moaned into my mouth, and it pleased me. I was hard and desperate as I carefully laid Angelina on the floor. It was warm and she never shivered when I placed her there. She pulled at my torso eagerly. I grinned and let myself down between her legs. Angelina gripped my chest with nails. It never ceased to amaze me the way she tilted her head back and bit her lip upon my entrance. She felt so fragile in my arms, yet she was tight and deep and I moved slowly to make the moment last. I groaned, placing my hands on the warm stone floor on either side of Angelina, enjoying her reactions to my stillness, bucking her hips up against me eagerly, clawing and begging. She made this tantalizingly sensual whiney sound and it made me even harder.

"_Draco_…"

I always liked to hear her say my name, but I thought it sounded best in these moments. She practically raised her lower back off the floor, goading me to delve deeper. I stopped teasing her and complied. Angelina pulled her hands through her hair slowly. I began to thrust, kissing her chin. I began to sweat almost instantly. It was already hot in the greenhouse. Angelina didn't care; she continuously smoothed her hands down my back, grabbing me all over. I found the most comfort inside of her. She was warm and squeezed me so tightly that I never wanted to come out. Lina rested her hands on my buttocks and finally looked up into my eyes. She wanted to speak but her mouth only sat agape, her breathing almost as heavy as mine. She smiled and a tear escaped her eye. Though I wasn't sure why, I knew I was pleasuring her as she brushed her hands over my head and gripped my shoulders. I didn't think there'd ever been as much passion between us as there was then and there. No words needed be spoken. It was like we were cast away in our own little world. No worries, no problems, only each other. I cradled the back of her head in my hand for a moment, kissing her forehead. She moaned more and more, dropping her hands on the floor and letting me take her completely. She finished with me and we were a mess of sweat and breathing on the stone floor. I lingered above her and admired her beautiful face. I'd never seen a more magnificent sight as her chest swelled red with blood that I could still see beneath her brown skin, her face full of the same afterglow I felt. I rested on my side a bit and held her with my free arm.

"Draco," she said.

I smiled.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Angelina Johnson."

I slept well that night with Angelina's head on my chest and her hands on my stomach. When I woke up with her I felt like it was going to be an amazing day. I hadn't felt that way in a long time, even after Angelina had walked back into my life. We sat in the kitchen and ate breakfast, and I felt like I'd known her for fifty years instead of one, but it wasn't an old feeling; it felt in ways that I can't possibly describe. I just wanted to be with her until I died, and even after that. I was happy to see her smiling where she sat across from me. She had clearly forgotten all about George, at least for the moment. And then something crossed my mind.

"Lina, I'm ready to talk," I said. Slowly her smile faded a bit and she put her fork down. I knew she'd been waiting to hear me honestly talk about what I'd been dealing with. Though it was a nice moment, I didn't feel quite like I would ruin it by talking about things that weren't as nice.

"I'm listening," she said, pushing her plate aside and reaching across the table for my hands. I sighed and took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment.

"That scar on my back, the one you're always asking me about," I began. Angelina looked at me intently and nodded.

"I told you it was from my father…and it is. It isn't easy for me to talk about this, but I think you're right. I think I should, otherwise it'll trouble me forever…" I took another deep breath before continuing.

"It was only a few months before we started sixth year. I tried to…I tried to disobey my parents. I told my father I'd had enough. I never liked using dark magic. As I got older, and I really started understanding things for myself, I realized that I was just a pawn in my parents' attempts to hold favor with Voldemort. It was really my dad, though, he must've talked my mum into all of it. She started to worry for me, but it was at a point where she could no longer convince him to back out of it, just to turn our backs on Voldemort…then one day I got into a fight with my dad. I told him I wouldn't do things anymore, I wasn't going to do Voldemort's bidding and if he killed my dad for it, it wouldn't have mattered to me. He was a horrible father. I don't think he ever stopped to think how much he was putting on me, how much stress and danger, even. He got angry and when I tried to leave, he splinched me. I got the scar when I turned my back on him. I wasn't even facing him, the bastard."

Angelina's mouth fell open a bit, her eyes watering.

"So I fought back. He's my father but I had to defend myself…didn't matter anyway, I lost. I _had_ to stay. I had to. It was more so because of my mother. I didn't want anything to happen to her if I…"

I choked up a bit and blinked back tears.

"Ever since, the relationship between me and my…dad…well, I wouldn't say that there _is_ one. I wonder how he could have done all of this to me and my mum. He's a power hungry bastard. He _never _should have sided with Voldemort, then everything would have been fine! I would've had a better life!" I said, slamming my fist on the table unintentionally. Angelina got up and rushed to my side where I stood and met her as she hugged me tightly. I didn't cry but I felt infuriated.

"The part that scares me the most is that I'm just like my father. I'm as much a coward as _he_ is. When he realized just how much shit he'd gotten us into, he only stayed by Voldemort's side out of fear. Look at me, I've run away because I can't stand to see myself turn into him, while he sits there acting like nothing's ever _happened_, like Voldemort never existed, like he'd never _sworn_ to kill me if I failed to kill Dumbledore…I can't be like my father. I'll lose myself," I said, wondering if I hadn't already gone insane.

"No, you are _nothing_ like him," Angelina said, holding my face in her hands.

"Do you hear me, Draco? You're _not_ your father, and you never will be."

Anyone could have said this to me, but it never made me feel as good as it did when Angelina said it. I calmed down, her kisses on my cheeks and lips alleviating the pain.

"I'm so sorry I had to bring so much pain into your life," I said quietly.

"Draco, there's more to it than that. Look at us now," she said, grinning though her eyes were welled up with tears that she wouldn't let fall. I loved her more than I've ever loved anyone. The doorbell rang, pulling Lina and I out of our moment. It rang again and she started out of the kitchen. I followed her. She opened the door and before I could even see who'd been ringing the bell, she screamed and went flying back against the wall, hitting it so hard that she was knocked unconscious.

"Angelina!" I screamed, dashing towards her, but something hit me in the middle of my back and I froze, falling on my knees. I couldn't move at all, it was like I was glued in that position. I heard footsteps and a laugh, a familiar, abrasive, vain, unyielding, evil little laugh. Pansy Parkinson knelt in front of me.

"Ah, _there_ you are, Draco," she grinned, and then her face dropped, "And what have you done to your beautiful hair?"

I tried to scream for Angelina to wake her but couldn't even move my lips. My eyes were the only thing able to move and as Pansy stepped away from me, I glanced over at Angelina who was knocked out cold on the floor. I wanted so badly to be able to just move my hands and get my wand. Goyle walked past me and leant over to pick Angelina up. I felt my heart sink when he turned around to show me his evil grin.

"_This_ is where you've been all this time, you sneaky little ferret," he said, "Old friend, you really shouldn't have turned your back on us. You can't imagine how upset your father is. What about the rest of us? Weren't you going to join us? You traitor!" he stalked towards me, Angelina's head bobbing insecurely in his grasp, and kicked me in the center of my chest. It hit me like a ton of bricks and the wind was knocked out of me as I fell to the floor. I was reminded of the time when I'd stunned Harry and kicked him in the face, and at that moment I forsook myself. I still couldn't move.

"Greg!" Pansy screamed, rushing to my side and checking to see that I was alright.

"You _don't_ have to hurt him!" she said through angry gritted teeth.

"Yet," Goyle added with a treacherous laugh that made my blood boil. Pansy cupped my cheek, and then she leant her head down to kiss it. I wished I could recoil but I was still frozen in place.

"I could've done the same. I _knew_ there was somebody else, Draco," Pansy said angrily, looking up at Angelina in Goyle's arms.

"I knew that's why you rejected me. I don't even _care_ that she's a pureblood—although you're lucky she is or I'd kill her myself right now! Tsk, tsk," she seethed.

"Looks like we've got leverage now, Greg," she said, an evil smile creeping across her sharp, wolflike teeth. I was finally beginning to be able to move my lips, the stun starting to wear off.

"I'll kill you," I spat.

"No—quite the opposite, really," Pansy said in a cheerful manner, placing her booted foot on my shoulder and turning me so that I was looking up at her and Goyle.

"But I don't have the heart for it. You're being given a second chance," she said.

"Consider this a warning. This bitch will be the one suffering if you don't resume your spot on the _right_ side," Pansy snarled, jabbing her thumb at Angelina.

"Oh and one more thing; your family has been searching for you everywhere. You'd better go home. If you ever want to see _her_ again, I'd do as I'm told."

I could move my toes, but it wasn't soon enough as Pansy started for the door, Goyle carrying Angelina as he followed. They slammed the door and I heard Pansy cackling outside, the glass windows shattering. I pictured her pointing her wand carelessly at Angelina's house. The way she cackled and caused destruction reminded me of my aunt Bellatrix and I felt so much devastation that my stomach hurt when I heard the _crack_ as Pansy and Goyle disapparated, taking Angelina off with them.


	11. Chapter 11

*It's a Friday night. I'm feeling kind of stressed out, even though it's only been one week of classes. The load isn't too heavy just yet, and while I sat in a lecture, my imagination gave birth to an incredible plot that if I don't write it down now, I'll lose it. So I'm going to write tonight, and make up for it by doing a minimum of four hours worth of course work tomorrow.

I cried in spite of myself, soon regaining motion on the floor. Once the stun had completely worn off, I stood up. If anything happened to Angelina, I would never forgive myself. I apparated to the first place I could think of and found myself in my bedroom at the opulent manor my parents raised me in. It felt cold and unfamiliar, even as I turned to find the familiar bed I'd left unmade since the last time I slept there. The curtains were mostly drawn, creating an even stranger darkness. I heard footsteps in a matter of seconds and I knew my mother was coming. She didn't even knock; she burst in through the door, causing it to hit the wall. Her eyes were wide with hopefulness.

"I knew you'd come back," she said in a hushed voice as she stood there taking in the sight of me. She stared at my shoddy haircut and for a moment I thought she was looking at a stranger.

"Draco," she breathed, rushing forth toward me, but I held her back firmly. She started to cry when I wouldn't allow her embrace.

"I'm _so_ sorry," she wept, and I knew what she was apologizing for.

"Can you forgive me? ...Your fathe—"

"_Where_ is she?" I asked, getting straight to it. All I wanted was to get Lina and leave before I ran into my father. My mother didn't answer me. She merely looked up at me, waiting for me to forgive her. Like hell I could have. And then my father stood in the doorway and I knew I wasn't getting out of there, with or without Lina.

"Draco," said my father, cocking a brow and stepping slowly over the threshold. I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't; I lunged at my father and put my hands around his throat on the floor. He looked up at me in brazen disbelief, with the same eyes I dreaded looking at whenever I'd find myself in front of a mirror. My mother was shouting my name and attempting to pull me off. I pushed her and she fell aside somewhere, begging me to stop, that I was hurting my father. For a second, I wondered why she didn't just stun me.

"_Where is she_? _What did you do_?!" I screamed, digging my nails into my father's throat, where I could feel his pulse. I almost wanted to make it stop, but I loosened my grip so that he could answer.

"My _dear_ boy," my father began, placing his hands on my wrists and beginning to pry me loose, "How I've missed you, too," he said, grinning, though I still had a pretty good hold on him.

"I'm _not_ a boy," I spat.

"Draco, enough!" My mother shouted. The strength of her voice alarmed me and I felt her hand at the back of my neck. I was caught off guard long enough for my father to overcome me and scramble up off the floor. He brushed off his expensive robes and took me in from head to toe as I rose to face him.

"Great _Scott_…what's happened to you?" he asked, grabbing my chin and turning my face from left to right.

"Is he hurt, Lucius?" my mother asked. I pulled my face away from my father's cold grip.

"_You're_ the ones who will be hurt if you don't give her back to me!" I screamed, going for my wand at the same time as my father drew his.

"What does he mean? Who is he talking about?" my mother asked. There was a quick knowing grin on my father's face.

"The girl," he said to my mother.

"_Where is she_?" I asked again.

"You thought that you could turn your back on us?" my father asked, negating my question.

"You are my _only_ heir, Draco," he said.

"I couldn't just let you disappear, especially not after Voldemort—"

"If you hurt her, I swear on my soul, I'll kill you," I said, pointing my wand directly at him.

"Oh, really? Just like you killed Dumbledore, son?"

I felt this serious rage that caused me to grind my teeth.

"Draco, stop it," my mother snapped and I felt her hand slap mine, causing me to lower my wand.

"Draco, if you don't want anything bad to happen to her, all you have to do is remain a part of this family," said my father, taking a few more steps towards me.

"Family? That's what you call this? After all this time, you really want me to believe that's what we are? You stole my childhood; you made me…" I couldn't even finish my sentence, thinking about all the times I'd been told to do as I was told, to remain silent, to practice dark magic.

"If you hurt her—"

"If you don't want anything bad to happen to her," my father repeated, "all you have to do is remain a part of this family."

"I refuse," I said, "And how could you just have let him control me?" I asked, turning on my mother. She looked like she would cry again.

"I'm not staying here, and I never want to see either of you again," I said.

"If you leave us again, you can be sure that _Angelina_ will no longer be of use to you," my father said, finally using Lina's name, right before I began to disapparate. I stayed put. It was clearly a threat. I knew my father; he didn't joke about that kind of thing.

"What did you do to her?" I asked again, taking a menacing step towards my father. He didn't so much as flinch. I looked over at my mother and she did nothing.

"Come," said my father plainly, turning and leaving my bedroom. I grabbed my mother by the shoulders as soon as he was out of earshot.

"What has he done to her? Is she in the cellar?"

My mother simply shook her head.

"I love her! Don't you understand? _Tell me where she is_," I demanded. A solitary tear dripped from my mother's eye.

"He didn't tell me—I swear Draco, I don't know where she is," my mother said, staring me dead in the eyes. I knew she wasn't lying but it didn't hurt me any less. My mother grabbed my hands and led me from my room. We went into the main hall, where I found Pansy sitting at the table. I imagined poisoning her as she stirred her tea, smiling when she looked up at me.

"Where's Goyle? What has he done with Angelina?" I demanded, approaching the table where my father was already sitting. Pansy merely smiled. I pulled out my wand and pointed at her and it shot out of my hands. My father picked it up.

"Enough of that. Have you lost your mind, Draco? This is not how we treat guests," my father reprimanded. As I stared at the long, dark table, I could remember Voldemort at the head, that putrid snake slithering past my feet, the fear in my heart. It was as if he'd never died as I stared at Pansy's evil where she sat.

"You'll get this back when I can trust you," said my father, tucking my wand inside his robes. Pansy pulled the seat back beside her and my mother joined my father where a house elf poured them tea. I didn't miss it, being so high up and ignorant. I'd learnt so much just by being with Angelina, trying to understand the people in her life. It became clear to me that it was in her best interests if I played along. So I sat beside Pansy, wanting nothing more than to choke her to death.

"What do you want from me?" I asked straight away. My father looked at me for a few seconds.

"What do you mean, 'what do I want from you?'? You're my _son_. You don't remember that, do you? Where have you been all this time? Have you forgotten all about your heritage? Your destiny?"

"What bloody destiny?" I asked.

"Don't speak to your father like that," my mother piped up, giving me a reprimanding glance.

"Why, to inherit my estates," he said, sipping his tea.

"You were to graduate Hogwarts and stand by my side, learn the skills that will continue our family's status. Do you not remember? The Dark Lord is gone, but some of his followers remain. It would be wiser to take head of that following than to fall by the wayside. There's a lot to be gained; it doesn't have to be like it was before with Voldemort. We can create a better wizarding world yet, one free of mudbloods. Think of it, Draco, to have your children grow up in a world where they're not confused by differences," my father explained, eying Pansy and then me, and I began to feel sick.

"You think you can lay out my bloody life for me? I want nothing to do with this," I said, my fists gripped so tightly that I was cutting my hands.

"Very well. I guess Johnson doesn't concern you very much," he said insensibly.

"Lucius, I don't think it's necessary—" my mother started but he put up a hand to silence her.

"Is she secure?" he asked Pansy. I looked at her and she smiled wide.

"Very. She won't be going anywhere. Goyle and I have made sure of that."

"Draco, you're free to leave as you please," said my father, reaching for the sugar.

"_No_," I began. "No, wait, what are you going to do with her?" I asked.

"Pansy, let Gregory know that Draco has declined my request, therefore Ms. Johnson is no longer of use to us," said my father to Pansy, ignoring my question. Pansy stood up.

"Wait!" I said.

"Whatever it is you want me to do, tell me! Just don't hurt her. She has _nothing_ to do with us. Leave her alone," I said. My father smiled triumphantly. He made me sick.

"You can resume your seat, Pansy," he said, and she sat down.

"You disgust me. You're no father; you sit there and order everyone around. You think you're a king when you're just a coward," I said angrily, unable to control myself.

"Draco!" my mother shouted. I had managed to make her very upset, as she stood up, leaning over the table to look at me.

"What is it that I've done to you, Draco, might I ask?" my father asked. I stood up without another word, leaving the table. I wasn't going to sit there and look at him. I went to the cellar door, Pansy following me. She rushed in front of me and pulled it open.

"She's not down there, Draco. But you can look if it makes you feel any better," she said, grinning.

"I hate you," I said blatantly. Pansy shot me an unbelievable look.

"You don't mean that. She's corrupted you, that stupid Gryffindor bitch," Pansy said, placing her hand on my cheek. I leant away from it and she frowned further.

"What has gotten _in_ to you, Draco? Don't tell me you've forgotten who you are."

"You have no _idea_ who I am," I snarled.

"And she _does_? I know you, Draco. And I know that you're not weak. It's that bitch who's weakened you. It should have been us," she said, placing her hand on my shoulder and I pulled away from it.

"Don't act like I never meant anything to you," she said angrily.

"I was stupid back then, and you were a slut," I said before turning around and hurrying away from Pansy. I had to figure out a way to save Angelina, and fast. For all I knew, my father was having her tortured at that very moment. To make matters worse, I didn't have my wand, I had no idea where she was, and I had no way of finding her…

When I showered that night, I leant against the wall and cried. I could've left, but I didn't want anything to happen to Angelina. If I never saw her again, I just wanted her to be okay, even if it meant that I had to become a Death Eater and be everything I hated…I sat on my bed, still wet, a towel wrapped around my waist, staring at the curtains blowing back as the summer night wafted into my room. I was thinking so hard that my head started to hurt. Things kept tearing Angelina and I apart. It wasn't just me standing in the way of myself anymore, this time it was _really_ my fault just for being who I was. I'd promised Angelina I would never hurt her again, and yet it was all happening and there was nothing I could do about it. I lay back and stared at the ceiling, my heart aching. I wished that I still had a fragment of Angelina's soul, so that I could know whether or not she was hurt, so that I could apparate to her just by thinking about her. I managed to fall asleep but something woke me up. The towel around my waist slowly came off. I nodded myself awake and felt a body on mine…the legs were naked, but I couldn't see quite well for a moment. I'd hoped that everything previously had only been a bad dream and that I was waking up to Angelina, her breasts on my chest as she lay down, her lips on my chin. As I passed my hand over the hair in the dark, I knew it wasn't Angelina and I shot up. Pansy gasped, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Get the fuck out of here," I said angrily, pushing at her. She held onto me.

"Not until you admit that we were something."

"I don't want you. I will never want you," I said coldly. I felt her nails dig into my shoulders and winced.

"You said you _loved_ me. Remember?" she said angrily in the dark.

"I used to say that to every girl whose knickers I wanted into," I said insensitively. I finally managed to shove her off me so she was sitting at my feet in what I could see was an unbuttoned nightgown. I wished to set her aflame. If only I'd had my wand.

"Get out of here," I said again. Pansy breathed in a dissatisfied way, buttoning her gown a little bit.

"You know, your father thinks of me as the daughter he's never had," she said.

"I don't care what he thinks. He's a lunatic. You will never be _anything _to me, Pansy. I love Angelina," I said, hoping that everything I was saying broke her as badly as it could.

"Then why are you hard, hmm?" she asked seductively, slipping her way back onto my lap. I knocked her off again and she slapped me. It barely stung. I was just happy to have hurt her feelings.

"Fine," Pansy said, stepping out of my bed, "I'll make sure Angelina gets it for that."

"What?" I shot before she pulled open my door. I could see her teeth gleam with a wicked smile in the darkness.

"Yeah, you think that _I _don't know where she is? It's all part of the plan. If you don't cooperate, you'll be sorry," she said before leaving without another word. I felt this incredible pang of fear in my heart. I pulled on the robe sitting on my bed. Racking my brain, I stood and started pacing. An idea popped into my head and I hoped it would work because it was all I could go off of then. I rushed out of my room and into the study. Hastily, I scribbled out a note and addressed it to George Weasley. I let him know that Angelina was missing and that I needed help to find her. I put in as much detail as I could while writing so fast. I labeled it as sent from Angelina, because I knew if George saw my name on the address, he would've been less inclined to read it at all. And then I summoned an owl and sent it with the letter out into the night.


	12. Chapter 12

Earlier this week I decided to search for Draco/Angelina stories, as when I started this story, I had never come across them as a pairing. But then again, I've never really been an avid fanfiction reader. I think it's difficult to come across people who can write _well _to be perfectly honest, but I stumbled upon Evilevergreen and started to read Tulips in the Sand. It's really amazing, a bit old, but still interesting. I haven't finished yet, but all week I've been stealing moments between classes to read what I could. I cannot afford too much distraction, but I'll let these few moments slide, as I've accomplished a _large_ amount of work today and will be doing even more tomorrow. The other day I had emailed myself a piece of dialogue that just sprang into my mind as I was walking across campus, and I couldn't just leave it for too long and let it dissipate…

A few days passed, and I received no response from George. I began to wonder if perhaps he _had_ sent a letter, but the owl had been intercepted by my father or one of his many cronies who often had meetings with him at the manor, all of which he'd insisted I sit in on, the better to gain professional knowledge. I hated it; the way my father was so imposing in his newfound leadership post-Voldemort. I could see the way his friends feared him, the way he mistook that for loyalty and power, how they took his orders like dogs. Most of the time I would just try and zone out, until one day I heard a familiar name and looked up from my hands resting on the table.

"Yes, the _Weasley_ boy," said Crabbe Senior, and I looked over at him.

"What about him?" my father asked, cocking a brow curiously, "that family is pure. There's no need to be concerned with them."

"Yes, but think about it, Lucius," he continued, "Potter had backup. Probably the only reason he was _ever_ able to defeat our Lord. The Weasleys were a big part of that backup. Don't you think we should minimize our threats before trying to return to power?"

"Is that not what we've been _doing_?" my father responded rhetorically.

"Where have _you_ been these last few months? We have managed to decimate nearly five complete mudblood lines."

My heart stopped beating for a second as I imagined these evil men ruthlessly murdering innocent families. Though I'd heard them speak of this before, it was the first time I really paid as much attention.

"So you want to go after the Weasleys," my father stated. Crabbe senior nodded. My father scribbled something down on his parchment and I knew that I had to reach George at that point. It was no longer just about Angelina…

It was Sunday morning and I sat in the study where my father had once lectured me about Muggles and mudbloods, explaining their impureness and that it was gradually destroying true wizardry and magical bloodlines, and that they had to be stopped. I sat in the same chair I'd been in when I was so young and my father was taller than me , so that I had to look up into his imposing eyes and believe every word he'd said…to think there was a time when I _actually _believed him. To know that there was a time when I actually looked up to him, that I wanted to _be _him—but never. _Never_. I wiped the tears that I hadn't noticed on my face for a bit. If only I could find out where Angelina was… I only hoped as I stared out the window at the rain that she was somewhere dry, that she was at least comfortable. The door creaked and I looked around the armchair where I was sitting to find the man I hated most in the doorway of the study.

"Draco," he said somewhat surprised to see me there. I turned back to the window so my face was hidden, and wiped away the rest of the tears. No, I would never let him see how much he'd destroyed me. And then I stood up as he approached.

"If this is about blood purity, you can let Angelina go," I said.

"It isn't," my father responded, "I know she is pure, but understand, son, that this is much more than that."

"I don't believe you."

"Johnson only serves as a distraction to you...It has, at long last, come to my attention that Johnson is the reason you were unable to fulfill the Dark Lord's task."

"Who told you about that?" I asked angrily. As far as I knew, I had been able to keep Angelina and me during Hogwarts a secret. A small smile crept across my father's lips, and I knew Pansy had told him.

"Angelina is _not_ the reason I failed to kill Dumbledore! I didn't want to kill him. I don't want to be evil. That's why I didn't kill him! ...How do you sleep at night? You have no soul."

"There is a fine line between the powerful and the powerless, Draco, and in order to remain powerful, we must do what we must do."

"You mean being evil, practicing dark magic, killing?"

"There is a necessary evil among all things, son."

"It doesn't have to _be_ that way! It's only so because we make it so!" I could not get through to the man; he was set in his beliefs, and it terrified me.

"The Wizarding world has changed a lot between my upbringing and yours. It is too hard for you to comprehend right now—"

"Oh, I bloody comprehend!" I interrupted, "You're the root of all evil!"

"If I am so, what of you, my son, does it make? It is not so simple."

"I don't care that one day you'll burn in hell," I said calmly.

"One day, you will thank me."

"That will _never_ happen."

"And how do you know?" my father asked.

"Because I'll die before I ever thank you."

There was a moment of silence. I knew my father could not believe what I'd said to him.

"I will never beg you for anything, but if you don't let Angelina go—"

"_What will you do_?" my father asked, taking a menacing step towards me. I flinched and wished as soon as I had done that I hadn't.

"You have no wand, you have no control. What will you do, boy? Kill me in my sleep? Then you will _never _know where she is." He didn't quite smile but I knew that he was feeling satisfied by my frustration and the power he had over me because of this.

"If none of this is about blood purity," I began, "Why are so hell-bent on keeping her away from me?" I asked. My father smiled this time.

"Because I know that you love her, and I see what that has done to you, Draco. You think that I don't know you at all, but I noticed you changing, those months ago. I noticed the way you started acting…something had changed you. I just wasn't sure what. And if you think that I raised you to let a woman get in the way of your future and all that you can accomplish, then you're sadly mistaken." I didn't have a comeback; he was right.

"Failure will not be tolerated," he said coldly.

"You are still young...you are still naive," my father said, turning with a swish of his ornate robes and leaving the room. I saw a violent bright flash of lightening as I looked out at the storm, wondering where Angelina was. That night at dinner I had to sit facing Pansy. I'd rather have been blind. The way she kept smiling at me seductively just made me want to kill her. My father had been insisting on having her around, supposedly to fill him in on Angelina and other things that were kept a secret from me. He was stupid if he thought that I would ever take companionship with Pansy again. He thought she could bring me back to their side. I would never touch her again.

"I'm not very hungry. Excuse me," I said, pushing my chair back about three minutes into supper. My father sighed discontentedly and threw his doily on the table.

"You will accompany me to the Ministry for business tomorrow morning," my father stated. I stood there for a few moments. My mother merely stared at Lucius, this look on her face of near begging, but he wouldn't look at her. I stepped away from the table and made it back to my room. Once there, I couldn't hold the tears in any longer. I staggered into my room and fell against the door of my closet, an utter mess of unhappiness. I fell to my side and wept. After a few minutes, I was able to compose myself. I stood up and pulled open the door that revealed my rather ridiculously large closet, filled with all these expensive things I knew I did not need. All I needed was Lina. I started pushing clothes aside, wondering what I should wear tomorrow. It was a strange thing to think of considering the state I was in. Something fell to the floor and I looked inside the closet. Something small and shiny glistened at me from the light. I reached down and picked it up. It was cold and hard. But as I held it in my hand it became very clear to me what it was. A small gasp escaped me as I stared down at Angelina's compact mirror. The last time I'd looked at it at all was during Dumbledore's funeral. I'd caught Lina's eye in the crowd and she'd caught mine. It was after she'd finally figured out how to undo the soul fragmenting that happened to us what seemed like so long ago. I almost forgot how I even came into possession of her little mirror. She certainly hadn't given it to me. I fell to my knees on the floor and stared at it a bit, trying to remember how it got to me in the first place…it was that weekend I'd convinced Lina to go away with me. We stayed at the Leaky Cauldron. It was Halloween, and Angelina and I had argued about my attitude. I remembered what a prick I was to her, leaving her there to spend Halloween alone while I went and spent my day in Knocturn Alley, meeting at Borgin and Burkes with my parents and my aunt about the plan to have me kill Dumbledore. It's where I'd received the cursed necklace that Angelina's friend Katie mistakenly touched. The scariest thing, being that it was Halloween, and Angelina had had no idea. I didn't return until late, only to find that Angelina had left. Honestly, it hurt me, though I didn't admit it to myself then but reacted angrily. I had torn apart the room, knocking the chairs over, turning the table upside down, and pulling the blankets off the bed. When I'd done that, this little mirror slipped from between the sheets and I stopped. It was so beautiful that I couldn't ignore it. Angelina had taken everything else that was hers from the room, but she'd managed to forget that little mirror. I'd sat on the bed and looked in it for a long time. At one point I started to see something other than the reflection of my eyes. I could see Angelina! It was like I could watch her in the glass. I could see her back at the castle, laughing. I'd felt like a complete jerk and ended up spending my night alone. I intended to give her back that mirror, and many times I almost had, but then in those moments when I wasn't at Hogwarts or I couldn't be near her, I'd steal glances through the compact mirror. I had no idea how it worked; it must've been the connection between our souls. Recalling all of this from where I was kneeling on the floor, my eyes kept watering. There was a soft knock on my door and I shoved the mirror into my pocket and resumed an expression of utmost anger. I wasn't going to answer the door. I'd had enough of my father for one day. To my dismay, the door opened, but I heard my mother's voice.

"Draco," she said softly. I sat on the floor and stared towards the window. She waited for my permission to enter but I never responded. She came in anyway, closing the door. I turned when I heard her lock it. Wondering why she'd done that, I watched her approach me cautiously.

"How can you sit there," I spat, "and let him control my life? I know that you love me more than he ever could, but you're letting him control me," I said. My mother looked as if she would cry; she knew I was right about her.

"Draco," she whispered, "I only wanted you home. I only wanted my son back," she said, kneeling beside me, at which point I turned away from her. I felt her grab my hands.

"Look at me, Draco," she said. "Look at me, baby."

"_Stop it_!" I screamed at her, losing control and knocking her over, towering over her menacingly for a few seconds. She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for me to strike her, but I never did. She didn't even fight back; she was going to let me hit her. I didn't. Hyperventilating, I sat back and away.

"I _need_ her, mother! She's the only thing that makes me happy. Merlin, just _help me_!" I said, unable to control my emotions at that point. Somehow, it wasn't as degrading for my mother to see me cry as it would have been for my father to see me cry. My mother sat up slowly, trembling from my upheaval.

"I don't know," she said in a choked voice but regaining her composure.

"I swear on my soul, Draco, I don't know where Angelina is. Your father wouldn't tell me. You _know_ he always has to be in control. Even over me, sweetheart."

I knew my mother meant me no harm, physically or emotionally, but she was of no real use to me at that point in finding Angelina. She slipped closer to me, resuming a whisper.

"I will help you," she said. I let her wrap me in her arms and she kissed my forehead. I felt a little bit of hope…

The next day at the Ministry was simply boring to me. My father introduced me to his various monopolies and estates he controlled through other wizarding families, telling me that this would all be mine as soon as I was willing to swear my loyalty to him as his son, his heir, and a Death Eater. I refused to take the title of the latter the most. He knew this well but spent his time trying to convince me and give me arguments as to why I should accept this offer. All I wanted to do was punch him in the face. As we were about to leave, I saw a familiar face across the fountain, two actually. I paused, letting my father walk on to the floo portals. I hurried around the fountain where Harry and Ron, dressed in Auror robes, were conversing, the two of them not having seen me coming.

"Harry!" I said a bit louder than I'd meant to. He and Ron whipped around in unison, looks of disbelief on their faces that I would even address them.

"Well, look who it is," said Ron sardonically, crossing his arms.

"Harry—this is serious," I said, lowering my voice and grabbing his collar. I got close enough so that only he could hear me.

"What do you think you're doing? If you don't bugger off right now, I'll—"

"Ron, wait," Harry interrupted. I could tell that he was translating the panic on my face.

"Angelina," I said.

"Angelina Johnson?" Harry asked, and then a knowing look spread across his face. Ginny and George were no longer the only ones who knew about mine and Angelina's relationship.

"I didn't believe George for the _longest_ time, but now I know it's the truth," said Ron, his mouth falling agape.

"Did he get my letter?" I asked, turning on Ron who shrugged.

"Didn't believe it," he said simply.

"She's _in danger_," I explained.

"Hmm, suppose that's from dating the likes of you," Ron continued coldly.

"No, you don't understand; I don't know where she is. My father's done something to her. I need your help."

"Alright, alright, slow down," Harry said, pulling my hands off his collar. I could tell I hadn't quite convinced Ron.

"It's not just her either," I went on, "The Death Eaters, they want to come after _you_," I said to Ron, looking him square in the eyes.

"I'm not lying. They're after _your_ family. Don't you see? They want to rise up and in order to do that, they need to get rid of Harry once and for all, and anyone who helped him defeat Voldemort. You'd better tell George. If he doesn't care about Angelina's life, I'm sure he still cares about his," I said. I could tell by the look on Ron's face that he was finally on board. He'd already lost a brother; I knew he didn't want to lose the rest of his family. I looked at Harry and there was a grave look on his face too.

"What do we need to do?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said frantically. "Just find her, _please_. My father took my wand. There's nothing I can do at the moment…" and then I took the mirror out of my pocket and opened it, looking into it. But all I saw was my reflection. I never saw Angelina, or where she was. I shoved the mirror into Harry's robes pocket.

"This is Angelina's," I said. He shoved his hand into his pocket to feel the compact. I looked around and spotted my father, who had finally noticed that I wasn't with him, looking around for me. Ron glanced in the direction I was staring. I knew I had to go. I couldn't be seen with them, or else my father would be onto me.

"I've got to go," I said swiftly.

"We'll do what we can," said Ron.

"Wait, how will I reach you?" I asked. Hastily, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin of some sort. He handed it to me.

"It glows warm when you're being signaled. Just go to Fred and George's joke shop," he said. I took careful note of his directions and quickly headed to my father, who luckily had his back turned when I finally approached him.

"Draco, where the _devil_ did you disappear to?" he asked me impatiently.

"I—I got lost," I said.

My father shook his head, and I knew he could tell that I was lying. He looked back over by the fountain. I looked over there as well, and to my relief, Ron and Harry were no longer standing there.

A week passed, during which time I was being given lessons on estate management by one of my father's closest friends. I still hadn't received my wand back from my father. For the first time I realized how dependent on magic I was. I hadn't heard from Harry either, or Ron, or anyone else. I was sitting at the dining room table thinking when my father and somebody else approached.

"There you are," said Pansy. Her voice made me sick.

"Hmph," came Goyle's displeased voice. I looked up and saw him. I stood up. He had his arms crossed. He was apparently still angry with me for my "betrayal" as he'd been during our last interaction.

"Did you enjoy your lesson for the day?" my father asked. I didn't answer him.

"Very well. We will be served dinner shortly. Why don't you entertain your friends?" he asked smiling as he started to walk away.

"How do I know you've even got Angelina?" I asked. My father turned back around slowly. Goyle laughed and that just scared me. My father nodded at Pansy, who then pulled something from her robes. It was Angelina's wand. I felt my eyes grow wide and my heart beat too fast. I rushed forth without thinking, to grab Angelina's wand. How dare Pansy take it from her, let alone touch it? Goyle got in front of me with his large strong stature and I couldn't stop Pansy from pocketing Angelina's wand.

"Think I might sell it for a good sum," she said casually.

"It's rare and very old, but in mint condition."

"You evil bitch," I said. I only heard Pansy laugh and my father gave me a disapproving look before he walked away again.

"You'd better sit down, Draco," Goyle started.

"Unless you'd like Johnson to suffer further for your disobedience. We do enjoy torturing our prisoners from time to time." I backed away from Pansy slowly and resumed my seat at the table. She sighed and sat to be served tea by a house elf. One tapped me on the arm.

"Yes?" I responded.

"Master Malfoy has another guest for the evening," she said.

"Who?" I asked, wondering who it could have been. I heard footsteps and turned around to see Blaise walking towards the table. For a moment I wondered how he was even there, but then I could tell that he came bearing news for me. He was on my side, unbeknownst to my father, Pansy, or Goyle. I stood up to greet him.

"Can I have a word with you, Blaise?" I asked.

"In private," I added, gesturing towards the veranda. Pansy and Goyle looked up at me from their tea curiously. I glared at them.

"Of course," Blaise nodded and I lead him out to the porch, securing the doors so that neither Pansy nor Goyle could hear us.

"The Weasley's have relocated for the time being. It's a good thing you got to Ron when you did; their home was attacked early the next morning," he informed me.

"Wait, so you've checked in with Harry and Ron? Thought they were going to notify me as soon as anything changed. I was supposed to meet them at the Weasley joke shop," I explained. Blaise shook his head.

"George deemed it too dangerous. He closed it up the moment he found out the Death Eaters were going to make an attempt at the family. It's the second place they looked." Blaise was definitely on board with what was going on.

"How'd you find out about all of this?" I asked.

"Romilda," he said with a loving smile. I knew he loved that girl.

"What, you don't think that _everyone_ who knew a star student like Angelina Johnson isn't going to try and help find her when something like this happens?" I couldn't help smiling. I also couldn't help hugging Blaise. He didn't seem too surprised by my reaction.

"We haven't had any luck yet, though. Harry is on a tracking spell with that mirror you gave him. So far nothing has worked; your father obviously doesn't want you to find her, but we do know one thing; she's not dead."


	13. Chapter 13

*I've been dying to write all week. I sometimes furiously text myself excerpts that come to mind in between classes. I've done a lot of work yesterday and I'm ahead of where I need to be so I'm going to take this moment to release some creative energy before I get back to work. Got to love college life.

"The tea shop will serve as check in headquarters. When you are notified, go there," Blaise explained.

Dinner went smoothly, because nobody even suspected that Blaise was part of my plan to save Angelina and reclaim my freedom. I effectively hid my smile, but couldn't conceal my relieved demeanor. My father spoke kindly to Blaise, asked about his parents and how they were doing. I was glad Blaise put on a good face. Even my mother was more verbal than usual. When it grew later into the evening, Pansy and Goyle left to go home, but not before my father pulled them aside for some secretive conversation. I guessed it was about Angelina and her whereabouts. I felt some relief to watch them go. My father bid Blaise a goodnight before explaining that he had some business to attend to. He'd probably gone off to murder an innocent wizard just for being a half blood. I felt relief again as soon as my father disapparated. My mother stirred a sugar cube into her third cuppa. I stood up.  
"Excuse me, mother," I said, "Blaise, could I have another private word with you?" I asked.  
"Of course. Thank you for inviting me to dine with you tonight. The manor seems more beautiful each time I visit," said Blaise, standing up from the table. My mother went round it to meet him, smiling.  
"You were always my favourite of Draco's mates," she said before giving him a quick peck on the cheek and an embrace. I walked out of the dining room, Blaise following. I spared a glance back at my mother who wore a worried look on her face. I led Blaise to the library and closed the door. A house elf was in the middle of restacking books, halfway off the floor in a levitating charm.  
"Will you excuse us, please?" I said. He looked down at me with his huge glassy eyes. He looked very surprised that I'd even addressed him.  
"Master Malfoy...Doyle hasn't seen you in this library since you were a little boy. Of course," said the elf before disapparating to another part of the house. I paused in thought for a moment; I'd never paid much attention to the house elves in my own home. I never even knew their names. But this one named Doyle had apparently known me as a child. I recalled Lina talking to me about how I treated house elves, that time we were at the Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps the elf had been surprised by the politeness with which I'd addressed him. There was a time when I'd have just thought it funny to throw books at the elf and order him to pick them up. Angelina had changed me a lot; I'd never once given thought to my behavior. All the more reason to find her. I had a desperate feeling and it showed when I turned to face Blaise, as he asked me what was wrong.  
"I'm terrified he's hurting her. He's having Pansy and Goyle keep tabs on Angelina, and I know they've got her; Pansy has Angelina's wand. See if you can find a way to keep an eye on them and find out where they're keeping her. The sooner we find her, the better. If anything happens..." I trailed off, forbidding myself to think it, but then I faced it, "If Angelina dies, I will never forgive myself. I will _die_, Blaise. Do you understand me?" I said gravely. He looked at me with crucial concern before speaking.  
"Don't worry—"  
"It's all I'm able to do!" I said louder than I'd meant to.  
"I'm sorry," I said, pacing and running my hands over my head, the hair I'd brazenly cut off in a moment of madness already growing back.  
"It's all right, mate," Blaise said understandingly, "If anything like this ever happened to Romilda I'd..." he trailed off, probably trying to imagine how I felt.  
"It's my father," I said with frustration through gritted teeth, "he's only doing this to control me, and it's working. I can't let anything happen to Lina. But it already has! I may have no choice but to become a Death Eater just to save her—"  
"Hey, no one's going to let that happen, mate," said Blaise firmly. He grabbed my shoulders and I stopped pacing. I held back tears.  
"Alright? You have back up now," he assured me.  
"You're a great friend," I said and Blaise smiled.  
"Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that my mother doesn't even know where Lina is—my father wouldn't tell her. But she said she'd help me...I just need you to know that she's not a threat. So, whatever it comes down to, whatever has to be done," I said, thinking of my father and his followers, who I decided I would kill if I had to, "Don't hurt her," I finished. Blaise nodded knowingly.  
"I'll tell Harry and the rest. We'll keep in touch. If not through me, then the coin," he said. I recalled the one Harry had given me at the Ministry of Magic, and placed my hand over my chest where I had placed it on a chain so I'd feel it heat up against my skin when it did.  
"The tea shop," I said. Blaise nodded and took a step back before disapparating.

Another two weeks went by and I didn't hear from Blaise or Harry. I began to worry more with each and every passing day. The more I worried, the tenser I got. I knew I was becoming a nervous wreck. I stood in the main hall, resting my elbow on the mantle above the fireplace, thinking. I glanced up at the large portrait hanging above the fireplace; it was a family portrait, painted by a rather famous wizard. It had only been a couple of months since we'd had that family portrait done. I looked at my face painted there, looking as realistic as a Muggle photograph. Though my expression was quite stoic, I couldn't forget how many times my father had told me to stop fidgeting and stop looking so anxious.

"Draco," came my father's voice, and I jumped and turned around with a small yell. My father looked at me with surprise.

"What has gotten into you, my boy?" he said, taking a step closer and scrutinizing my face.

"Are you ill?" he asked, pressing a cold hand to my forehead. I backed away from it, not wanting him to touch me, not wanting any of his evil to rub off on me any more than it had.

"I'm not sick," I spat. "If there's anything I'm sick of, it's you and your posse; you and your madness," I spat. He lifted his hand to strike me, but then took a deep inhale and paused. I didn't flinch once.

"When did you learn to talk back like that?" he asked.

"Just give me my wand, father," I said angrily.

"So you can ruin your future even further? I'll have no such thing. I didn't get this far with the Dark Lord only to fail. One day you'll realize that I'm doing this—_all _of this for your own good, then _you_ will be powerful and no one will hold you back," he explained.

"You call people being afraid of you power? You have no idea how corrupt—"

"Enough!" said my father.

"You are going to do as you're told," he said.

"And what makes you think that?"

My father smiled.

"I'm sure the Johnson girl is barely hanging on as we speak. At any time you could just walk away and she'll be done away with at my request."

I felt my fists ball up with the urge to beat my father within an inch of his life.

"That's what I thought. You are going to pay a visit to an old friend," he began.

"Who?" I asked.

"Harry Potter," he explained. "You'll accompany Goyle and Pansy along with a few others of the youth, to get a sense of the cause. You will not be given a wand, so it is critical that you stay with your friends—"

"They're not my friends," I said. My father negated this fact.

"Watch and learn, boy," my father said.

"When will you learn that I'm not a boy?" I asked.

"When you prove yourself to me. Prove to me that you aren't that weak boy who couldn't even carry out the Dark Lord's will. When you have proven yourself to me, Draco, you'll earn it all back, my trust, your rightful place, and your wand," said my father, brushing something off my shoulder. I backed away from him again and he glanced up and off to the side with some annoyance at my behavior.

"Tonight," he said, "you will have the chance to redeem yourself."

I had no idea where Pansy and Goyle were taking me. They stood on either side of me as we stepped outside the grounds of my home, exiting the charms that kept just anyone from apparating in. I felt like a prisoner between the pernicious pair. I looked down at Pansy's wand to realize that it wasn't hers. It was Angelina's. How I wanted to snatch it clear out of her filthy grasp. I didn't want to imagine her committing atrocities with Angelina's wand. It sickened me. There were about five other people waiting outside the gates as we left the grounds of the manor. Three of them were young men, probably my age, and the other two were young women who looked as wicked as Pansy. The way they grinned their seductive grins sickened me and I wanted to brutalize them all. But I kept myself contained.

"Draco," said a bloke who was my height. He had dark brown hair and gleaming dark eyes, a pointy pair of incisors, and a reddish pair of lips that looked as though he'd just drank a glass of wine.

"This is Fice," said Pansy grinning, "He's half vampire. It's really quite fascinating; he day walks; the sun doesn't burn him," she explained. Fice grinned and shook my hand.

"Not to worry, I only eat Muggles," he said in a sinister manner as he shook my hand. His was cold like death.

"But good witches have a peculiar taste also," he explained with a thoughtful gaze. Had I eaten recently I would have vomited all over the place. I didn't care to listen when Pansy and Goyle introduced me to the others before I felt Fice grab my shoulder and shortly a strange lifting sensation, the ground beneath my feet disappearing as the young Death Eaters whisked me away with them. I was forced to stay beside them as they broke into a home I'd never been in. It was night and I was afraid Harry might actually be there sleeping. But as the Death Eaters lurked about, they soon found that no one was there. Harry was smarter than that; he'd clearly known who might be looking for him after what I'd said about the Weasleys. I couldn't help feeling happy that the visit was in vain. Pansy and the rest looked incredibly displeased upon their discovery of nothing.

"We can't just go back empty handed," bellowed a guy whose name I didn't recall.

"Well, what do you _suppose_ we do? There's no one here," Pansy spat.

"Potter knew we were coming for him, you dolts," she said. At the mention of Harry's name, my heart warmed. It really did and I placed my hand over my chest where the coin was situated. I was being paged. I wanted so badly to just disapparate, but I didn't want anyone to follow me, so I remained, the coin growing warmer and warmer on my skin, until it nearly burned. I tried to keep a straight face. Pansy began shattering windows, and blowing up doors out of anger. It made me furious to see her using Angelina's wand to wreak havoc. She split the sofa and shattered the chandelier.

"You're wasting _time_," Goyle grumbled, grabbing her hand as she pointed Angelina's wand at the front door. Pansy sighed.

"Alright, let's go," she said. I felt Fice's cold hand at the back of my neck and gasped as it had taken me by surprise. The group disapparated and I soon found myself back outside the gates in front of my house. By now, the coin against my chest had stopped warming, and I only hoped that Harry knew that it was an inopportune moment for me to sneak away. My father was displeased to learn that we hadn't found what we were looking for. After giving the group a talking to, he sent everyone home and returned to the study where he'd been working on something. As I started to my room, I couldn't wait to get inside so I could apparate to Blaise and Romilda's tea shop. But when I opened my bedroom door, the lamp was on and I found Pansy standing by the vast window, looking out at the night. I grimaced.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing in here?" I asked, approaching her. She turned around.

"Draco," she said quietly. I paused about three feet away from her.

"Go on, then, get the hell out of my room and go home," I said, pointing towards the door. Pansy looked up at me pleadingly.

"Draco, please hear me out," she began, taking a step towards me. I glared down at her, but she carried on.

"Those other girls, they've heard things about us…they want you," she said.

"_Us_?" I asked, cocking a brow, "There is no _us_, Pansy. Now get out before I throw you out," I said. Pansy looked up at me angrily.

"You're going to have to stop kidding yourself eventually, Draco," she said, "You _know_ you can't save Angelina. Why not forget about her and step up to your rightful place? Become what you're destined to become and join me, join _us_. We can be together again. You can remember what it's like to have _real _friends, Draco. Not all of these fools who thought they could stop Voldemort—"

"Harry did," I said with a grin.

"Voldemort's _legacy_," Pansy continued.

"That didn't die with him. You know that. You know you could be so much greater than him," she whispered, closing the gap between us and placing her hand on my collar. I narrowed my eyes at her. I removed her hand from me and she looked so frustrated.

"Stop denying this," she said. "I _know_ you loved me. You _did_," she said. I shook my head.

"I told you, you were just a slag and I was stupid back then."

Pansy's lip quivered and her eyes watered up.

"Get out of my room. Get out of my sight," I said, pointing towards the door coldly.

"I'll kill her," Pansy said, and my heart dropped in my chest.

"Then you won't have _anyone_ to be with, and you'll _have_ to be with me," she said. I grabbed Pansy by the arms and shoved her against the wall. She'd pushed the wrong buttons with me. I shook her wildly.

"You stupid bitch! I will _never _love you. If you do _anything_ to Angelina, I'll only hate you more, if that's even fucking possible," I yelled. Pansy started to grin.

"Hate is a strong word. It's rather close to love, don't you think?" Pansy asked me. I shoved her so she knocked the back of her head against the wall. She winced.

"Yes, Draco," she breathed.

"You always were rough," she said, forcing her way towards me and standing on her toes to smash her lips against mine. I knocked her against the wall again, this time with complete brute force. Pansy expressed genuine pain and the look of seduction on her face began to fade.

"Draco, that's enough," she said. I was going to hurt her, and I didn't need a wand to do it. I'd had enough of her.

"How _dare_ you?" I seethed, "How dare you take Angelina's wand? You are a foul and weak excuse for a witch. I've been with plenty of girls and _none _of them were women like Angelina is. You are a whore, Pansy."

"Take that back," she spat, pushing me. I retorted by slapping her across the face. She fell so hard against the wall that she slid down to the floor. She pulled out her wand.

"_IMPERIUS!_" She screamed, and I felt my body freeze up under her command. Pansy smiled malevolently.

"Make love to me, Draco," she said.

Despite how I wanted to resist, I wasn't strong enough. I dropped to my knees, tears filling my eyes as my hands, shaking so, moved towards Pansy's cloak and pulled it off her. She moaned when I pulled her towards me. And though I was doing all of this, it wasn't _me_, it was the most agonizing experience I'd ever had. All I wanted was to retract my hands, but they defied me. I had no control over my own body. I felt like a prisoner inside a cell as I pulled Pansy against my body tightly.

"Kiss me," she said, and I obeyed. I couldn't even tell her how much I hated her. It seemed the _only_ things I still had control over were my mind, which raced with thoughts of Angelina and my eyes, which dripped with tears for tarnishing my loyalty to her by touching Pansy. Pansy moaned into my mouth, pulling me down on her on the floor.

"Take off your clothes," she said. It was with complete unwillingness that I did this.

"Now take off mine," she whispered. I obeyed. Pansy finally looked up at me crying, closing my eyes.

"Stop thinking about her and take me," she said with jealousy in her voice. Though she ordered me to stop thinking about Angelina, I never did.

"_Look at me, Draco_," Pansy said through gritted teeth as I lowered myself against her body. She wrapped her arms around my neck.

"You want me so badly?" I asked sarcastically. I finally found a bit of strength deep within my soul. I squeezed Pansy's wrists.

"Stop," she said. "I don't like that, Draco." I pushed her back down against the floor. She reached for her wand and hit me again with the curse.

"Make love to me," she spat. For the first time in a long time, I was evil. I was honestly, truly evil. I was deliberately trying to hurt her as I roughly collided against Pansy's body. She let out a painful moan, yet it was still a moan. I wasn't in complete control, but just enough that I could bring my hand to Pansy's throat and squeeze, though not as roughly as I desired. She reached for my hand, wanting me to stop that, but I started to feel the strength rising in me a bit more. Pansy hit me with the spell once again and forced me to stop choking her.

"Look in my eyes," she said. I hated her so much. I just wanted to kill her. At the same time, I hated myself for thinking in such morbid ways, yet what Pansy was doing to me was unforgivable. She moaned up at me and when I finished, she pushed me over and got on top of me. I'd never known what it was like to be taken advantage of this way. I'd never even let a woman be on top before. I felt emasculated. I hated the heat I felt emanating from between Pansy's thighs as she brought herself to climax. When she was finished, she laid her head on my chest. I felt the tears drip hot into my ears and the anger in my heart.

"Hold me," Pansy breathed. My arms snaked around her.

"Tell me you love me," Pansy said. I kept my lips pursed tight. I was strong enough to resist saying that. Pansy waited and then looked down at me.

"I said, '_tell me you love me_,'" Pansy said, glaring. I felt the curse wavering and pushed her with all the strength I had off of me. She rolled over on the floor and cursed at me. She picked up her wand again and pointed it at me with angry tears in her eyes.

"I really wish it didn't have to be like this," she said.

"You can make me fuck you a million times, but I still don't love you, and I _never_ will," I said with triumph. Pansy collapsed to her knees and screamed angrily.

"Crucio," she said and I felt the searing pain I'd only experienced once before by pure accident at Angelina's hands. I didn't dare give Pansy the satisfaction of screaming. She hit me with the curse once again and I remained silent, though my body contorted in pain on the floor. Pansy finally gave up.

"Fine, if I can't have you," she said, "_no one_ will." And I knew she meant Angelina. I felt the ultimate worry as Pansy quickly dressed herself and opened my window, her black cloak swirling about like the Death Eater she was as she flew out into the night. Quickly, I got dressed and disapparated to the tea shop. I found Blaise behind the counter next to Romilda pouring a cup of tea. Ron was leaning sleepily against a wall and opened his eyes when he saw me, Hermione beside him.

"Pansy's going to kill Angelina," I exclaimed automatically. Harry walked up to me from behind. I turned around to find George, Ginny, Neville, Luna, the Patil twins, and Dean waiting there with him.

"We've been paging you," Harry said.

"I know—I couldn't get away," I explained.

"We have to hurry! Pansy's going to—"

"I think I may have found out how to find Angie," George explained, stepping forth with the little mirror I had given Harry some weeks ago. He shoved it into my hands.

"What do I do?" I asked frantically. George pointed his wand at me almost as soon as I'd asked. I felt a strange sensation as he began to cast some spell. It felt like I was falling suddenly, falling back somewhere. The next thing I knew, I was standing in the girl's dormitory at Hogwarts. It felt familiar as I turned around to find myself standing there with a dejected look on my face. For a moment I thought I was looking into a mirror, but then I realized that I was _actually_ standing before myself, in the flesh. I looked up and was horrified.

"Who the hell?" I asked myself.

"Quick—get him to look in the mirror," came George's voice. I glanced to the side to find that the redhead was standing next to me, having apparently sent us back a little ways into the past. I remembered this moment; it was before Christmas break during my sixth year when I'd spoken to Angelina in the girl's bathroom. She'd left only a few seconds before George and I travelled back to this moment in time. Me from the past pulled out his wand and pointed it at George and I.

"Wait, don't!" I screamed at myself.

"It's me! I'm you. Just look in this mirror and tell me where Angelina is," I explained frantically.

"What do you mean?" I responded to myself, slowly putting my wand away, "And why's the Weasley here?" I asked myself, glaring at George.

"You don't understand—this is you from the future, Malfoy," George explained to my past self.

"Angelina is about to _die_ if you don't look in this mirror right now and find out where she is in the future," he explained. The me from the past acquired a grave face and snatched the mirror from myself. I was still in some disbelief, looking at myself standing there. It was much different than looking in a mirror at myself. The me from the past looked in Angelina's compact mirror. His face dropped and his eyes widened with horror.

"She's in Azkaban…is that _Pansy_? What is she doing? Who are those people?" he said. George grabbed me by the shoulder and we travelled back to the present. I once again found myself standing in the tea shop. George's face was as white as mine.

"They've been keeping her at Azkaban," he explained.

"How is that possible? It's been done away with ever since Voldemort was defeated," Ron explained, standing up away from the wall.

"No, Angelina's there right now. We've got to go," I explained. I was the first to disapparate. As soon as I got to Azkaban, I remembered that I didn't even have a wand. What was _I_ going to do? I wasn't standing alone for long; the next thing I knew Luna and Neville apparated on either side of me, soon followed by Harry and the rest. The moon was just fading as daybreak began, but there was enough light that I could see the imposing building that was Azkaban. George took off right after me into the abandoned prison. We were running side by side and he glanced at me and I glanced at him for an awkward moment. It was only a matter of time, as we found ourselves drawing nearer and nearer to Angelina's screams.

"I haven't got a wand," I explained.

"Then stay beside me," said George, "This is _your_ fault anyway," he explained, rushing past me further into the confines of Azkaban. As much as it hurt me, I didn't have time to get upset about what he'd said, so I hurried on. We came into a clearing and I turned around, searching for Angelina. The stone doorway we'd come in through was suddenly occluded by the young Death Eaters I'd recognized from only a few hours earlier. Fice smiled at me as he approached, his wand already firmly pointed at me. Pansy's wicked laugh filled the air before I heard Angelina scream and I whipped my head in the direction from which it came. Angelina was being dragged forth in chains, Pansy pulling her mercilessly through the air before slamming her to the stone floor. When I saw Angelina, I nearly screamed myself; she had lost a significant amount of weight, and had become pale and weak, her hair wildly overgrown.

"Crucio," Pansy said easily and Angelina's screams weakened.

"NO!" I screamed as Goyle hit George from behind with a stunning spell and he went flying across the hall into a stone wall where he fell unconscious and his head began to bleed out onto the stone floor. Pansy paused in torturing Angelina and glanced over where George was lying on the floor.

"Well, well, well," she said, grinning at George and crossing her arms. Angelina was a mess on the stone floor, her eyes shut and for a moment it already appeared that she was dead.

"Is that the Weasley who survived? I could never tell them apart, the bastards," said Pansy, walking over and using her foot to turn George's face up so she could see it.

"Good work, Goyle."

"He nearly got you," Goyle explained, picking up George's wand. I ran forth at Pansy who simply put up a force field that deflected me each time I tried to approach Angelina. I was beginning to feel helpless and the tears fell out of my eyes.

"Please! Do whatever you want to me, just don't kill her," I said.

"Oh, Draco," Pansy said, stepping outside of the force field.

"We've given you a chance for that."

"Did you say, 'kill,' Malfoy?" Goyle asked me.

"We're under strict orders not to do that," he said, seemingly reminding Pansy, "She's supposed to die on her own."

Pansy glared.

"I don't give a flying fuck what orders we're under, dimwit," she said.

"Johnson's going to die, and Draco's going to watch," she said cheerfully. She knelt down in front of me and I watched as she pocketed her wand, pulling out Angelina's.

"And I'm going to do it with her own wand," she grinned. I reached up and struck Pansy in the eye. I'd done it fast enough that she hadn't had time to stop me. She fell back for a second. I felt a swift kick in my ribs and looked up at Fice who was glaring down at me. Pansy then got up.

"Hold him up so he can see!" she screamed. Fice picked me up by the shoulders, his nails piercing my arms so hard that they let blood. Pansy smiled up at me.

"This is the last time you _ever_ deny me," she said before turning to face Angelina who was lying on the floor. I heard a rather loud _boom_ and turned to find Ginny standing in the doorway George and I had run in through.

"George!" She screamed when she saw her brother lying on the stone floor. There was a flash of bright light as Harry's Patronus flew through the dimness and began to disrupt the Death Eaters. Pansy turned around and Fice had dropped me in the distraction. With an angry scream, Pansy started turning her attention to Luna and Neville who were shooting curses at her. I tried again to rush inside the force field where Angelina lay. Her eyes began to open and I screamed her name. She was so weak she could barely respond. I felt myself thrust back as Pansy hit me away from Angelina with a spell. Dean and the Patil Twins had added to the distraction and as far as I was concerned, a war was being waged. My back ached from being thrown against the stone wall but I got up and made my way back to Angelina. Finally Pansy left her distractions to my great chagrin and entered the force field where Angelina was now standing. It seemed to take a lot of strength from her, shackled as she was, to simply stand up and face Pansy. I felt the most useless and helpless I have ever felt in my life as I tried in vain to penetrate the force field.

"Finite!" George screamed. I hadn't even seen him get back up or reclaim his wand. But the force field went down and Pansy was left defenseless to spells. She turned around and barely looked to see who had interrupted her yet again.

"Avada kedavra!" She shouted at George, who deflected the curse instantly. Angrily, Pansy approached George. Angelina looked over at George with wide eyes. Though I still had no wand, I ran up to Pansy and grabbed her arm. She shot a spell towards the ceiling which caused a load of rocks to come crumbling down. George was quick enough to shield everyone from them as they tumbled down.

"You will _not_ get in my way again!" Pansy screamed, shoving me with all her might.

"Kill her now, George!" I screamed, holding her back as hard as I could. And just as he began to say the curse, his wand pointed at Pansy, Pansy's eyes went wide and her mouth fell agape. She dropped Angelina's wand and I looked to the floor where I began to see little red drops. Pansy staggered and I let go of her to find Angelina behind her, holding a shard of rock in both her hands. She yelled, pulling it out of the back of Pansy's neck as they both fell to the floor. Angelina pulled the shard out with all the strength she could muster before stabbing it back into Pansy's neck. Pansy didn't even scream as her eyes opened with utter shock. She didn't even know what was happening. Angelina's screams were unlike any I'd ever heard before as she used all her strength to stab Pansy to death with the shard of rock, blood covering her hands and some of it getting on her face before she passed out, the shackles holding her hands and feet together clanging against the floor. I stepped over Pansy's body and knelt there to collect Angelina's weakened form in my arms. I couldn't have thanked Merlin enough that Pansy was finally dead.


	14. Chapter 14

*I love being pre-med and I am determined—that is a rock solid fact, but I will never like math or how stressful the workload can be at times. I'm doing the best I can with what I have, and what I have is a very fortunate opportunity in comparison to many other people. This is where I come to relax…

I had never cried so much in my life, not even as much as I had cried that night I slept alone without Lina after I'd watched Snape kill Dumbledore. I cried even harder when I looked down at the weakened woman in my arms, her arm in my left hand broken as it was misshapen in my grasp. Pansy had overdone it with the Cruciatus Curse. I did not feel a pulse as I pressed my index and middle fingers to Angelina's jugular vein. I lowered my head, pressing my ear to her lips in the hopes that I'd hear or feel her breathing.

"What are you _bloody_ waiting for?!" George screamed, throwing my concentration off. I looked up at the redhead who wore an astonished and enraged look on his face. He shoved the wand he'd won from Goyle into my hand and deflected a curse from Fice almost simultaneously. It was utter chaos in the chamber.

"_Get her out of here!"_ George screamed at me. I disapparated automatically to St. Mungo's. When the nurse behind the desk in the emergency room saw me, I did not need an explanation for her to rush over her colleagues and a healer on duty. They took Angelina out of my arms and I ran in panic up beside them as they wheeled her into an operating room. But just as I was about to follow them inside, one of the nurses stopped me.

"Sir, you can't go in," she said, pressing a hand to my chest. Without even thinking, I shoved her aside and attempted to rush into the operating room. I would _not_ let Angelina out of my sight again. I had gone so insane that I was convinced my father would have had every Death Eater he commanded on my tail and keeping tabs on Angelina; anything to keep her away from me. A much taller nurse, near my height, urged me out of the operating room. I stopped her with both hands.

"Sir, you cannot be in here!" she said urgently.

"You don't _understand_!" I screamed in frustration, "I _CAN'T LOSE HER_!" I pointed the wand George had given me at the nurse and as soon as I had done so, it went flying out of my hand towards the ceiling where it was frozen in place, an alarm going off. The healer that had started tending to Lina glared over at me. I'd apparently triggered an anti-wand charm which must've been active in the operating room.

"Get him out of here before he contaminates this room!" the healer shouted. I felt strong arms on either side of me dragging me out, literally, because I was too horrified to move or take my eyes off of Angelina, who I could barely see at this point due to the number of nurses around her. Whoever it was dragging me let me fall on my arse on the floor outside of the operating room. I'd only experienced the feeling I was feeling then and there once before in my life; the night I learned I was chosen to kill Dumbledore. I was having a panic attack. I was sure I'd die any second as I fell onto my back, hyperventilating, my chest constricting, the lights dimming…

"He'll come to," said an unfamiliar voice. I slowly blinked awake and found myself lying in a hospital bed. I recognized the healer who had taken to Angelina when I brought her to the emergency room.

"Thank you," said George, who I realized was standing beside the healer. I sat up slowly and George approached me. There was a dark bruise on his forehead from having been slammed against a stone wall in Azkaban. I quickly recounted in my head the events of the past few hours. I realized I hadn't actually slept in an entire twenty-four hours. What I'd just experienced was a blackout from the panic attack. George approached me and I stood up, feeling a bit lightheaded.

"How is she?" I asked automatically, not giving a damn about myself. George glared and pointed his finger at me in a livid manner.

"You lot have never been _anything_ but trouble," he growled, "If you _ever_ so much as _speak_ to Angelina Johnson again, I will hunt you down like the pale, rotten, evil, sadistic, scum you are and I won't even kill you with magic; I'll slit your motherfucking throat with my own bare hands," he said. I remained impervious to George's very credible threat.

"I—asked—you—how—she—is," I said very precisely. I watched the redhead's eyes well up with tears that he never let fall.

"_Barely_ alive. They say there may be permanent, incurable damage, because she was given the Cruciatus Curse _so_ much that—" George had to cut himself off and close his eyes, even turn away from me for a few seconds. I relaxed the tiniest bit; she was alive. She was alive. It became very clear to me very quickly how much she meant to George, and I could not help but feel this painful sensation in my heart for him. It hurt me to know that he loved her as much as I did and that she'd never be able to return all of those feelings, because she was in love with me. I honestly pitied him; despite how much Angelina loved him too, it just wasn't the same as the kind between the two of us. George wept a little bit before turning around to face me again.

"You know, you can't keep me away from her," I said. George looked to me slowly.

"You know you can't keep _her_ away from me."

George laughed without humor.

"Try me," he said, standing to his full height and pulling up his sleeves. He was hardly weak; he was so angry that I could see the veins bulging in his strong arms.

"I'm not going to fight you, George," I said calmly.

"Don't even use my name; it sounds like filth rolling off your tongue."

I did not expect him to accept me, especially not after what had just happened.

"If it makes you feel better, go ahead and beat me up. I don't even care. All I care about is that I saved her, and you know that I've done right by her. If I was the rotten, evil, sadistic, scum you described, I'd never have fallen in love with Angelina—"

"Stop it," he said, shaking his head as if he didn't want to believe it, pressing his fingers into his temples.

"Someone like her, she truly is an angel. As far as I'm concerned, she was a gift to me. She was a gift from the gods, the powers that be, and nothing, not even you, George Weasley, will ever keep her away from me again."

George looked up at me and his expression changed. It softened somewhat, and he just listened as I spoke calmly.

"I know that I've done a lot of horrible things; I've hurt people, I've _almost_ killed, but even then, my intentions were never really to hurt anyone at all. And that's what you have to understand; that's the side of me Angelina sees. That's the side of me she fell in love with. It's who I really am deep down. It just never came out because…" I paused.

"Things have always been complicated for me, George," I explained, garnering his attention.

"I've been through darker shit than you can _possibly_ imagine. My life was mapped out for me by my parents, but it was really my father, this whole time, who had the most influence on me. It wasn't until I was old enough, smart enough, to make it all out for myself that I realized I was on the wrong side. I've never really been this evil boy you thought I was. I was just trying to survive. Angelina is the only thing that matters to me now, and if I can't have that, I see no point in living."

George looked at me curiously, as if unable to believe the words coming out of my mouth, but somehow still believing them.

"I _know_ that she loves you; you should have seen the way it destroyed Angelina for you to be angry that she was with me. And if she never wants to be with me again, all I'd want is for her to be happy, even if it means being with you instead of me. If she's happy, I'll die a content man. I won't stand in the way if you're the one she wants. I hold nothing against you, and I'm sorry for anything I have ever done to hurt you or anyone you care about." I had never been so honest with anyone other than Lina. I waited for George's response. He seemed to be thinking.

"Draco, I know she loves _you_, too…that day that Ginny came home and told me that she saw the two of you here…the way she _described_ it…I've known Angie a long time, and when she cares about something or someone, she really does. You have _no idea _how lucky you are to have someone like her the way that you have her—even after you've put her through all the shit you've put her through. I can see her love in you. It's almost terrifying…" he explained, looking me up and down a moment.

"She's changed me," I said quietly, trying not to lose my composure again. I felt myself shake with feelings over her, "I don't know that I would have without her."

"How did it happen?" George asked me in some bewilderment.

"How did you…?" He didn't have to finish his sentence in order for me to know what he was talking about.

"Something strange happened to us one day, during a Quidditch match. Do you remember that she was struck by lightning?"

George nodded. There was no way he wouldn't have heard about that game, about that accident.

"Well, it happened to me, too. It happened _right_ at the moment when we collided in the clouds. It severed a piece of her soul and a piece of mine and transferred each into the other…it was a pure accident, and we _couldn't_ fight it. Angelina is strong—believe me, she tried to fight it, and if it hadn't been for that, she would _never _have taken the time to get to know me," I explained. George sighed.

"I didn't want to believe any of it, but Blaise filled Harry in on the whole situation between Angie and you…I just wanted to hear it from you because I guess I needed closure."

"…How did you know how to find her?" I asked.

"With Hermione's help," George explained. I'd always known that witch to be a walking brain.

"Angelina's mirror was the key," he went on, "It's a duos-via conspicor; a two-way magical mirror. According to history, they're not supposed to exist at all anymore. There were only several hundred and they were supposedly all destroyed or lost long before Merlin existed. That's ancient magic. Not a witch or wizard around has seen one in centuries. She must've gotten it from someone that she's pretty damn important to for her not to know what it was," said George.

"And I'm wondering how _you_ got it."

I was a bit confused.

"Did you give it to her as a gift, to keep an eye on her?" he asked warily.

"No."

"Did you _steal_ it from her?" he asked with some contempt. I frowned a bit.

"No. She left it in the room we shared one weekend at the Leaky Cauldron. I found it and I realized I could see her through it. I meant to give it back, but I just couldn't…"

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing you didn't," he said, being thankful for the fact that we'd been able to find her before it was too late.

"Well, it didn't matter; I could only see her when our souls were connected. When Angelina figured out how to reverse that, I couldn't see her in the mirror anymore."

"Which is why it worked when we went back to ask your past self, the one who still had a piece of Angie's soul in his own."

It all made sense to me then, and I suddenly couldn't stop wondering who had given Lina that compact mirror in the first place.

"It's all over now," said George with some sort of relief.

"I can't deny that you love Angie," he said, closing his eyes for a few seconds after he said it.

"But I'm only going to tell you this one more time, and by Faust you'd better believe me," he said, looking up to meet my eyes, "If anything ever happens to Angelina again because of you…"

"I know," I said surely. He need not have threatened me a second time.

"Don't take it as a lie when I say that I respect you for that, George. If I were in your shoes, I'd do exactly the same thing."

"Great. So you'd better not hurt her. You'd better not break her heart."

"And I won't," I said.

"What makes you so sure?" he asked honestly, though narrowing his eyes at me.

"Because we've been through enough madness together to know that's no longer possible. If it was only the accident making us love each other, then we wouldn't still feel the way we do."

"But she was strong enough to undo it. That says a lot. Maybe Angie never really loved you to begin with," said George. He just couldn't let it go.

"She was strong enough to do it because I drove her to. She knew it deep down, as much as I was trying to deny it, that as long as Voldemort or me being a possible threat just for being who I was, wasn't something to take lightly. She knew that _both_ of our lives depended on it. If I was ever found to be guilty of treason, it would have been my head. She undid the accident so that wouldn't be the result. And as much as I hated for it to have been that way, I knew it had to be. Because if they'd found out about us, they would have killed her. I couldn't have lived with that either."

George took a very long inhale, finally accepting it. With that, he walked away from me.

When they finally let me in to see Angelina, I still hardly recognized her. The richness of her skin had long since vanished and she was so skinny that I thought she might break had she tried to stand. Immediately my eyes flooded with tears. There was no _reason_ I should have had to see her like this. There was no reason she should have had to go through this.

"I'm going to kill him," I said to myself, sitting at Angelina's side and gripping her hand.

"I'm going to kill my father," I said, promising myself. It occurred to me right after I'd said it that he _still_ had possession of my wand.

"Don't do," came Lina's _very_ weak and barely audible voice. My heart skipped a beat and I froze as I stared down at her with wide hopeful eyes. Lina's opened slowly.

"Oh god," I breathed, lowering my head to kiss her cheek gently. I was afraid she'd been in a vegetative state. I had been scared she would not wake up; the healers hadn't been very sure she'd have made it at all. She was in critical condition, so I composed myself and tried not to do anything more that might agitate her in the slightest. I heard an anguished sigh as Angelina lifted her arm with considerable strength to rest her hand against my cheek.

"No, baby, don't try and move," I said, gently placing her hand back against the bed. I looked and found her smile still extant, despite how incapacitated she was. She was the strongest woman I'd ever known. She'd been even weaker the day before, but she'd found the strength to get up and stab Pansy to death. Lina closed her eyes again. I dropped to my knees, still tall enough to reach her face and plant gentle kisses there. I couldn't contain myself anymore and sobbed.

"I'm so sorry," I choked out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I said repeatedly, gripping her hand. Angelina squeezed back, and though it wasn't very strong, I knew that she was in there, fighting, surviving. The weak body I was looking at was merely the vessel in which Angelina's resilient and invincible soul resided.

"I _never_ should have fallen for you—then _none_ of this would have happened!" I said, furious with myself, though I knew that was something I would never have been able to prevent.

"Don't try and tell me that it's _not_ my fault that you're here right now," I said. I couldn't control myself anymore.

"Draco," I heard her breathe. I stopped panicking when I felt Angelina's slender fingers at the back of my head. She brushed her hand over my head slowly. I finally let it drop there and cried shamelessly as she comforted me. I proceeded to wait on her hand and foot, not allowing myself enough sleep to function like a normal person. When George came to visit again, this time with Harry, Hermione, and his parents and other siblings, I realized just how much Angelina meant to so many people. I watched Mrs. Weasley standing over Angelina like a fairy godmother, caressing her hair and telling her how much of a fighter she was. After I'd given Lina time with her other visitors, George approached me again outside the hospital room.

"We're not telling Angie's parents about any of this. She doesn't want them to know," he explained.

"What?" I asked, a bit bewildered.

"She told me," he said, and I was a bit surprised. As far as I could tell, Angie could barely muster more than three words at a time, yet she'd been able to tell George not to let her parents know she had nearly died.

"Why would she want that?" I asked.

"She's their daughter. Don't they care? They may not be here, but they have a right to know."

"It's what Angelina _wants_. She said she doesn't want them to worry, so keep your trap shut, got it?" George asked, before walking away from me without waiting for an answer. I turned around to see him walk up to Padma Patil, who took his hand as they left together. He was still furious. I could hardly blame him. Nobody really talked to me when they came to check up on Angelina, and I knew they'd all been thinking about how it was my fault she was even in the hospital. I'd never felt so much fault as I did when Mrs. Weasley glanced up at me before leaving Angie's side and a care package behind. Hermione had her arms crossed, looking at Angelina sleeping worriedly.

"Thank you," I said to her. Hermione looked up and about, wondering whether I was actually speaking to her. Ginny looked at me blankly, and I was at least relieved that she wasn't glaring the way Ron and Charlie were.

"Excuse me?" said Hermione slowly.

"Yes, I said, 'thank you,'" I clarified.

"I don't think anyone would have figured out where they were keeping her without you," I explained. I stepped around the bed to shake Hermione's hand. She merely leant into Ron, who put his strong arm around her protectively. Harry sighed and everyone's attention was drawn to him.

"Alright, let's clear the tension, yeah? Draco has done some stupid things, but I _know_ he never meant for any of this to happen," he said.

"I won't deny that this isn't my fault, and I'm not trying to," I explained, "and I don't expect anyone in this room to just cozy up to me—not even Angelina. But I'm really trying to make amends. I'm on _your_ side," I explained.

"How do we know we can even trust you?" Bill asked, stepping forth.

"There are Death Eaters out there waiting for you to get back to them and your father. They _know_ about what happened and they want you back. They're trying to start another war," Bill explained, "as if we _need_ another one so soon. You're just lucky _we_ didn't lose anyone after all of this. And we didn't even destroy them all; some got away," he explained.

"You think I don't know what they want? It was _me_ who found out what they were planning to do to your family. If I hadn't run into Ron that day at the Ministry—"

"Don't try and turn this around," said Bill rather loudly.

"Guys," Ginny cut in, raising both hands to signal for quiet. Angelina was resting.

"Right, well, you're welcome," said Ron before turning with Hermione to leave, the rest following. Ginny and Harry stayed behind and I watched them hold hands as they gazed down at Angelina.

"You know, I don't hate you, Draco," said Harry.

"It took a lot of courage to do what you did. You could've been killed without your wand but that didn't stop you from saving her…whatever it is you plan on doing, you'd better act fast because they'll find us all sooner rather than later," Harry explained.

"I can't do it on my own," I said, tacitly asking for help. Harry nodded before he and Ginny left the room, closing the door carefully behind them. I went to Lina's side and gripped her hand lightly.

"I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you again. I will destroy them all, even if I have to die in the process." With that, I kissed Angelina's forehead for what I hoped wasn't the last time before disapparating to Blaise and Romilda's tea shop.


	15. Chapter 15

"Draco," said Blaise concernedly, "The first thing you need to do is calm down." I hadn't noticed how hard my jaw was clenched or how tightly my fists were balled until Blaise urged me to sit down in a chair. I took a deep breath as instructed and sat down where Romilda proceeded to pour me a cup of tea, one hand comfortingly on my shoulder.

"I'm not trying to say we're out of the woods just yet, but at least," Blaise paused and I calmed down some more, "at least Pansy won't be a problem anymore." And he was right about that. I felt my blood boil with rage for the first time since she'd used the Imperious Curse on me. I hadn't thought about that; I'd only been concerned with Angelina. As I sat there and finally started to think about it, I started to feel as if Pansy's death wasn't enough; it wasn't enough punishment for what she'd put Angelina through. It was a miracle within itself that Angelina _hadn't_ died.

"Draco, are you okay? You've gone _stark_ blanched," said Blaise. I was staring at my hands, thinking about what Pansy had forced me to do to her. The things I never wanted to do again. I rubbed my hands furiously against myself, as if to wipe Pansy's essence off of them. I shook my head thoroughly and tried to remove it from my mind, the heat on the inside of her thighs rubbing against me, how I yearned to choke her to death. I stood up so fast that the chair behind me fell and I startled both Blaise and Romilda.

"This is _all_ my father's fault! If he'd have just left me well enough alone when I left! I'm going to kill him," I said, hearing the echo as Blaise called out my name. I found myself standing once again in the library where I'd had that conversation with Blaise. I started traipsing back and forth, thinking. I knew I couldn't very well just barge into my house and murder my father. No doubt I'd have stood a chance _without_ a wand anyway. The one belonging to Goyle I'd had when I took Lina to the emergency room had been confiscated until further notice; I was lucky they were even still allowing me into St. Mungo's to see Angelina. I sighed in frustration and kicked a chair over. About two seconds later, a pair of tiny hands came by and stood it up right. I glanced down at the house elf I'd seen the last time I was in the library with Blaise. He looked up at me.

"Master Malfoy, may Doyle assist you in finding a book?"

And a brilliant idea popped into my head as I looked down into the giant plate round elf eyes. I smiled and removed my blazer. Doyle looked up at me with even bigger eyes as I proceeded to kneel down, where I was at his height, and place my blazer over his shoulders.

"I pronounce you free, Doyle, if you can do me one final favor," I said clearly and hopefully. The elf's mouth fell agape and his eyes watered, a smile slowly appearing. He nodded and took my hand in both of his tiny ones.

"_Anything_, Master Malfoy!"

"No, I'm no longer your master. You may call me Draco, Doyle," I said.

"What is it Draco would like for Doyle to do?" he asked sincerely.

"I need you to retrieve something for me; something my father has taken from me. My wand."

I recalled how easily Dobby had taken my mother's wand, with the snap of his little fingers. It started to confuse me as to why elves were even under the control of witches and wizards if it was that easy for them to take our wands away.

"And I need you to give it to me as soon as possible," I said.

"Draco?" I heard my mother's voice.

"Go," I said, "Don't let my father see you coming."

Doyle nodded and disapparated just in time as my mother opened the doors of the library. She rushed over to me and threw her arms around me.

"Mother," I said, pulling her away slowly.

"Draco, your father isn't happy. He knows what you did to Pansy," she explained. I shook my head and felt a tiny curl at the corner of my lips.

"I didn't kill Pansy. Angelina did," I said. My mother did not look fazed at all by this. I don't think she ever liked Pansy as much as my father did.

"He knows you've rescued Johnson."

"Does he know where she is?" I asked, grabbing my mother's shoulders desperately.

"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head, and I relaxed. My heart stopped beating so fast.

"Remember you said you'd help me, mother," I said. She nodded.

"What can I do?" she whispered.

"The girl is safe now, that's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"That's not _all_," I said, "I can't live my life while he tries to control me. I'm not staying here anymore, and I'm not staying on the path _he's_ chosen for me. I'm my own man, my own wizard. I refuse to partake in dark magic."

My mother frowned.

"Your father only wants what's best for you," she said. I realized she'd only been upset with my refusal to recognize him as my father.

"Mum, I can't live like this! What are we? We're a dysfunctional family. This is _not_ how things are supposed to work! No one should ever bring up their child, teaching him that others are wrong just for being who they are, when we're no less guilty of the evils that befall them. No one should ever try to bring up their son to become a ruthless murderer…how do you sleep beside him at night?" I asked. I saw my mother's eyes water. She turned away from me and walked towards the window.

"Your father, Draco…" she began, "has never murdered a soul," she explained. I felt my heart skip a beat.

"How do _you_ know? I've seen him hurt people," I said, starting towards her.

"Because I know my husband. And he may be a lot of things, Draco, but a murderer isn't one of them. The man you see, the man you fear—"

"I'm not afraid of him! I'm afraid of _becoming_ him. I can't let that happen," I said.

My mother wouldn't look at me. I heard her sigh.

"So you're telling me, that all this time, he expected _me_ to be the one to _kill_ when he couldn't even do it himself? How could you _ever_ have sided with him on that?" I asked outraged. Finally my mother turned around. She was crying, something I felt badly for making her do, although she knew I spoke the truth.

"We only wanted greatness for you, Draco. We never wanted you to have to deal with murder, but it was _Voldemort_. We couldn't have simply said no. Our family, our lives depended on it. For that, I am truly sorry. I've failed you as a mother—"

"Mum," I said regretfully. She raised her hand to silence me and closed her eyes a moment before speaking again.

"You are right, my love. I have yielded to your father's ways for way too long. And most of that was because I thought he was doing what was best for you and for this family, until Voldemort wanted us to prove our loyalty by having you murder Dumbledore…that was _never_ supposed to happen, Draco. And though you didn't have to do it in the end, it never should have been something forced upon you. You were only a boy. I know what we've put you through, what I've put you through," my mother stopped to let out a sob and pull her hands over her heart where I knew she felt the pain.

"I'm so sorry…what do you need me to do, Draco? What are you going to do? How are you going to stop your father?"

I thought about it a moment.

"Just stay out of my way. I don't want you getting hurt," I said darkly. My mother looked up at me with apprehensive eyes.

"Draco…what does that mean?" she asked carefully. I turned swiftly on my heels and started for the door.

"Draco?" called my mother a bit louder. I couldn't turn back to face her and let it break me. If I had to kill my father to emancipate myself, that's what I was going to do.

We sat at dinner in silence. My father hadn't spoke a word to me since he'd come home. He'd merely spared me a very angered glance.

"Narcissa," he finally said. I looked over at my mother whose nose was still reddened from sobbing.

"Have you been crying?" my father asked. She turned away from him and did not answer. My father sighed.

"Dear," he said in a polite tone, although there was something very menacing about it. My mother did not answer. Finally my father slammed his fist on the table and my mother jumped.

"Damn it, woman, _answer_ me!" he screamed.

"…How _dare_ you?" my mother asked, standing. It shocked me as much as it shocked my father, who looked across the table at my mother with surprised eyes. She had _never_ raised her voice to my father. She'd never really made a point to argue with him when he told her to do something.

"How dare you sit there and act like I'm a dog that should respond to your every request and whim at the drop of a dime! I am in _no_ mood to speak to you, Lucius," she said before containing herself and sitting down, taking a few deep breaths and rubbing her temples.

"You're upset with Draco, aren't you?" he asked, turning to look at me at last.

"Because he's gone and eliminated some of my best men, disobeyed his duties, and _embarrassed_ this family. Damn it, boy! I'm getting tired of your insurrections. Look, you've gone and upset your mother."

"Leave him out of this!" she spat, standing up again.

"I'm going to have to excuse myself," she said, dropping her napkin on the table. My father stood up.

"Sit down," he said firmly. My mother paused.

"I think it's about time we have a serious talk with our son."

"I will _not_ sit down. Draco doesn't even want to be here, and you know that," she said, pointing a finger angrily at my father. He looked utterly taken aback. I didn't bother to interrupt their argument. I caught a glimpse of my wand inside my father's robes as he moved his arms about angrily, the fight between my parents getting louder and louder. Doyle apparated onto the dining room table, drawing my parents' attention to him.

"What the _bloody bullocks_ are you wearing? Take it off!" My father yelled. Doyle snapped his fingers and my wand appeared in his hands. My father wasn't fast enough, because Doyle was right next to me the next instant and handed me my wand.

"Expelliarmus!" I shouted, causing my father's wand to go flying across the room. I then stunned him and he sat still and stiff in his seat, unable to even speak.

"Draco," said my mother worriedly as I approached my father, my wand pointed at him.

"I'm _tired_ of you trying to control my life. The only reason I was here all this time was to protect Angelina. And now that I've got her back, there's no point in me staying. I don't want this life you've mapped out for me. It's _yours_, not mine. My life is with Angelina Johnson and under the sanction of good magic. I will _never_ join you, and if you think I'll rest before I've killed each and every one of your minions, you've got another thing coming."

"Draco," said my mother again as I stood there pointing my wand at my father.

"Don't," she said.

"Don't what? You think I'm going to kill him? I'd be even less than he is if I did that. No, I'll let him live, so he can suffer knowing he'll never live through me." And with that I disapparated. I rushed into St. Mungo's and started towards Angelina's room. As I walked about, the hallways seemed rather empty. Perhaps it was because it was past nine and many patients had retired for the evening. But as I rushed along, I saw a pair of white-stockinged feet sticking out from behind a service desk. I paused, recognizing a nurse's uniform. Suddenly my heart dropped into my stomach. Slowly, I stepped towards the desk, pulling my wand out of my pocket. I found a nurse lying there, white as snow, no life left in her small frame. She had no doubt been murdered; her eyes plastered open in fear and her mouth agape as if to scream. It looked like a chunk of her hair had been pulled out. In a panic I rushed around the corner to Angelina's room. I could see that the door was open before I even made it to the room. And when I finally did, George was lying unconscious in the corner and Angelina was standing awkwardly in front of the curtains.

"Lina," I breathed a sigh of relief when she blinked, but her face was full of fear and her eyes were wide, and I knew something was wrong. I heard a familiar laugh and slowly somebody wrapped an arm around Angelina's neck. Goyle came into view from behind the curtains, holding a syringe with some sort of strange liquid inside it very close to Angelina's neck. I began to lift my wand and Goyle drew the syringe nearer Angelina's neck.

"I wouldn't, Draco. I've just about grazed her skin. This stuff doesn't necessarily have to be injected in order to kill."

He was smiling and I felt my stomach lurch with nausea.

"What do you want?" I spat, standing firmly there.

"My wand, you bloody traitor! The Weasley," he said, jerking his head over in the corner where George was lying unconscious, "doesn't seem to know where it is."

I was wondering then how Goyle had managed to even get near George when George had a wand.

"He was disguised as a nurse," Angelina said quietly, answering my unspoken question. I then noticed the horribly ripped up outfit on Goyle's frame. He laughed.

"Please," I said, "You can have _whatever_ you want—even my life! Just don't hurt her," I said, feeling my eyes sting with tears I kept inside. I wondered how Lina was even standing there; she was still very weak. It must have taken all of her strength not to move and fall on the syringe Goyle was holding so close to her neck.

"Give me my wand," said Goyle. "I know he gave it to you! So where is it?!"

"I don't know!" I responded, "I'm telling the truth! I got short with a nurse when I brought Angelina here, and they took it away from me—I don't know where it is! Please, Goyle, give me veritaserum if you don't fucking believe me!"

"Wow, you _really_ love her, don't you?"

"Yes," I admitted.

Goyle nodded.

"I'll bet you're wondering how I found her," he said, smiling wickedly.

"You have got to be kidding me; where else did you think I'd look? Johnson was injured. This is a pretty obvious location," he said.

"If you hurt her, you'll be begging for mercy," I growled. Goyle pulled Angelina's hair back and directed the syringe at her windpipe.

"NO!" I screamed.

There was a green flash of light and Goyle went stiff, the syringe falling from his hand as he dropped to the floor taking Angelina with him. I looked around wondering where it had come from; I hadn't done anything. I looked down at the floor where there was a mortifyingly angered expression on George's face. He began to sit up, wincing in pain and falling back down. I hadn't even noticed him regaining consciousness and pulling his wand out of his robes. I then noticed the broken tray beside him on the floor, which must've been what Goyle had knocked him out with. I rushed around the bed, kicking Goyle's humongous body off of Angelina and picking her up carefully.

"Did he hurt you?" I asked, placing her on the bed as carefully as I could. Angelina only closed her eyes.

"George," she said quietly. I turned around to find him with his eyes closed again, pain on his face.

"I'm going to get the nurse," I said, but not before kneeling beside George.

"I'm alright," he said, waving me away. But clearly he wasn't. I ran out of the room and went to find somebody.

It ended up being in the Daily Prophet: _Former Hogwarts Student Breaks into St. Mungo's and Murders Nurse on Call_. I growled, throwing the paper down. "It should have said, _Death Eater_," I glared. Angelina was sitting up straight, tuning the radio Ron had dropped off earlier in the day. The story was all over the news, and the hospital was hyping up its security. I hadn't even been permitted to bring my wand into the building. It was the new policy. Only Ministry guard officials and doctors were permitted to carry wands inside the hospital. George had killed Goyle. I hadn't yet had the chance to thank him personally.

"Lina," I said carefully.

She opened her eyes where she was resting.

"Draco," she said, her voice still fragile. Day by day she was regaining her strength, but she was still weak and I hated to see her like that. It killed me.

"I've been thinking, and I think it would be better if you were somewhere safer, somewhere no one will be able to find you." Angelina took a slow deep breath.

"Draco, it's all over now. There's tighter security. I'll be fine here."

"No," I said, standing up and sitting at Lina's side. I caressed her cheek and she looked at me. My eyes watered.

"That was too close, Lina, I almost lost you _again_. They're not going to stop looking, not until I've killed them all," I explained.

"I've disobeyed my father, and he doesn't take that sort of thing lightly. I _know_ he won't stop." Lina closed her eyes.

"I want you to stay with your parents for a while."

Angelina's eyes widened up and she sat up away from the wall.

"No. I can't let them see me like this. I don't want them to know what's happened. They've been through enough and I'm fine now, Draco," she said.

"You're kidding me, right?"

When Angelina didn't smile, I knew she wasn't.

"Lina _please_!" I begged.

"I won't let something like that happen to you again."

"Draco," she said, placing her hand on my arm, "honey, you can't stop every bad thing from happening and it's going to drive you crazy."

"I'm _already_ crazy. I think that's something you'd have learned by now."

I managed a small laugh out of her.

"Well, the answer is no," she said.

"Lina, if not for my sanity, then at least for your safety," I continued.

She sighed. Then she shook her head.

"I won't run away. They're not going to win," she said. She was stubborn, and I knew I couldn't argue with her. I pressed my forehead to hers and pulled her close.

It was midnight when I stood outside the grounds of my house with Harry, Ron, and Hermione on either side of me, Ginny and George backing me up alongside Bill and Fleur.

"Are you sure you still want to do this?" Harry asked me.

"There's no guarantee your mother won't get caught in the crossfire," he said.

"I _am_ sure," I said for the final time.

"If I don't stop him, they'll keep going after Angelina. My father wants me to join him and he can't do that while she's keeping me away…I have to do this."


	16. Chapter 16

I was about to open the gate with a swish of my wand when there was a firm hand on my shoulder.

"I'm the only one who can open it," I said, wondering why George had stopped me.

"Wait, we can't just barge in without a plan," he said, blinking at me when I turned around to face him.

"What other plan is there? We're going to kill every Death Eater left alive," I explained.

"George is right," Harry piped up.

"Draco, do you have any sort of a floor plan or entrance from which it would be least expected that we attack?"

I thought for a minute.

"You didn't just expect us to blast in there unprepared," said Ginny, cocking a brow.

"In order for this to work, you need to tell us exactly where to start," Hermione finished, Ron nodding. I thought about it further.

"The cellar. I've never gone in from there but I know we can. Just follow my lead," I said, extending my arm. Slowly and somewhat unsurely, Harry grasped my hand as if he were shaking it, followed by Ginny who held my arm just below the elbow.

"If I apparate, I can take you all with me, but it won't be long before I'm detected. They know when I come home. There's a charm," I explained. George placed his hand on my shoulder, and soon everyone was somehow attached to me as I apparated into the cold, dark cellar. I couldn't see for a few seconds before Ron ignited the space with some device and I could see everyone's faces. Fleur looked up at Bill unsurely.

"Just stay here until I open the door from the top of the stairs," I instructed, before disapparating out of the cellar and right outside the door. I opened it and Ron was already making his way to the top. Quietly, they followed me. I paused in the great hall where there was a fire going and I could see a familiar white hand resting on an armchair. I already knew it was my father. I started into the room towards him and as soon as I did so, he started to stand up. I heard an ear shattering scream and turned my head just in time to find Bill and Fleur stunned and Ginny halfway at the ceiling in Fice's arms, his teeth hovering inches away from her neck. Harry screamed for her and was taken off guard by one of the younger female Death Eaters I recalled Pansy introducing me to what seemed like only the night before. Ron and Hermione were battling Crabbe Senior and two other young Death Eaters that managed to survive the fight in Azkaban. George had attempted to sneak up on my father from behind, but was quickly shot across the room like a rag doll by Crabbe. My father laughed with amusement.

"_Really_ now, boy, did you honestly think I was going to mope about with _no_ defenses? Foolish," he said, stepping towards me slowly. I wasted no time in throwing curses at him which he deflected in a languid and bored manner.

"I know your every move; I'm your father," he said. It didn't stop me from trying.

"Call them off! Call them off or I'll kill you," I said, deflecting the stun my father shot at me. He merely cocked a brow.

"Draco, this is your _final_ chance to step up to your rightful place beside me. If you do not, the consequences will be dire. Do you understand me? Do you _really_ want to be responsible for the deaths of…" he paused, glancing around the room where my backup had been effectively detained, "all of these amazing, purebloods? With the exception of the Mudblood," he said in reference to Hermione, wrinkling his nose as if he smelled something unpleasant. I looked around to find Fice feeding on Ginny, who appeared to be losing consciousness as he slowly drifted down to the floor. Harry was caught behind a force field, futilely attempting to fight his way out. Hermione was pinned to the floor, her wand by my feet, while Bill and Fleur lay motionless on the floor. Ron was restrained by a choking hex that had him gasping for air on his knees.

"It's not worth this, Draco," my father grinned.

"Where's mum?" I asked, finally realizing she was nowhere to be seen.

"Properly detained. Don't worry; I wouldn't kill my own wife. The fact that you thought you could use that weak woman to undermine _me_, my, Draco, you really do have poor military tactics," my father laughed.

"I will _never_ join you. I don't want to be a Death Eater. I don't want to be feared. You think what you have is power, but it's far from it. Nobody here ever would have followed Voldemort—or you—if they didn't think they'd be murdered for turning their backs."

My father frowned.

"These people aren't even your _friends_!" he shouted.

"I am," a familiar voice called out.

I saw my father lift his wand before the entire room went white and I was blinded. It was Blaise. I couldn't tell up from down and I wasn't sure how much time had lapsed before I found myself leaning against a wall, Fice's head rolling across the floor like a remembrall, and a few piles of dust that I quickly came to realize were the remains of the last of the Death Eaters. Ron was standing, catching his breath as he staggered over to Hermione, Harry running to tend to Ginny who was still unconscious. I looked and found Romilda undoing the stun on Bill and Fleur as they slowly regained motion. George was unconscious against the hearth, and I soon realized that this always seemed to be his result when we were under attack. Bill hurried over to him when he was fully able to move once more.

"How did you—?" I stopped short in asking Blaise a question when I noticed my mother standing a couple of feet away, using the Imperius Curse on my father. He was on his knees in front of her and she seemed to be speaking to him.

"Your mum contacted me the other night. Draco, I knew something like this was going to happen, but you didn't say when," Blaise explained.

"How did she know to go to you?" I asked.

Blaise grinned, "I've always been her favourite of your mates. She was worried about you," he explained, "It was a good thing she owled me when she did; Romilda and I had to track and rescue her from a rather strange location…"

"Obliviate," I heard my mother say. My father stood up, a pleasant smile unlike one I'd never seen before on his face. He looked as if he were in a daze.

"My word, Draco, why didn't you tell me you were having guests? I would have had a feast ordered," he said pleasantly. I was utterly shocked for a moment as my father nodded and waved politely at Hermione. My mother walked over and it then occurred to me that she'd done something to Lucius, perhaps messed with his memory. I was convinced he was no longer a threat…

Angelina was still regaining her strength, and I visited her at St. Mungo's so much that it began to feel like I was living there. I was sitting in the room, reading the Daily Prophet to her when the door opened. I turned to find George standing there. Angelina looked over.

"Hello," she said.

"Oh, er, Draco, would you mind it if…if I could speak to Angie for a bit? Alone?" I looked at Lina and then at George and back again. I felt her place her hand on my knee.

"Will you give us a minute?" she asked. I nodded and stood up, kissing her cheek for a few seconds before walking slowly towards the door. I paused there as George let himself in, sliding past me. He then closed the door in my face as soon as I was outside. I wanted to wait there and hear what he was saying to her, but I knew she'd have been unhappy with me doing so, so I found the strength to walk away into the waiting room. I sat there for at least ten minutes before George came back out. He sighed deeply, spotting me where I stood by the window. He just stood there for a minute and looked at me before starting to walk away.

"George, wait," I said, approaching him. He paused, his back entirely to me. I didn't wait for him to turn around and look at me. Something told me he didn't want to see me again.

"Look, I know how much Lina meant to you—"

"How much she _means_ to me," he said, finally facing me, putting his words in the present tense.

"I'm sorry," I said, although I knew it meant nothing to him.

"For what?" he asked.

"I'm not _so_ immature that I feel like you _stole_ her from me, if that's what you're thinking. I know I still mean a lot to her, and I always have, and I always will, no matter how much she loves you. Even if it's not the same thing, I _know_ she loves me," he said. He wasn't in denial either. I knew Angelina loved him, too. But it wasn't the same as she felt about me.

"I just wanted to thank you for keeping her safe when I couldn't."

"You know, you underestimate her a lot," he said, looking down at me and crossing his arms. I felt a bit of shame as he did this.

"But if you hadn't been there, Goyle would have—"

"You would have done what you needed to do," George interrupted me.

"Just take good care of her, okay?" he said. He looked at me and I looked at him and then he walked away and it was the last time I would see him for at least fifty years. When I came back to the room, I found Angelina crying. She turned her face away when I opened the door, not wanting me to see her tears.

"What did he say to you?" I asked. I felt defensive then. I wasn't going to let him walk away having hurt her in some way.

"No, Draco," Angelina breathed.

"What did he _say_ to you?" I asked again, this time desperately.

"Please, I need to know. I need to know if you still want to be with him, if you can't be with me."

Angelina turned to me with shock on her face, and then I calmed down.

"You don't have a right to know _everything_ about me," she said hotly.

"I—I'm sorry," I said. I'd pushed her too far.

Lina sighed, "He's trying to save his relationship with Padma, you know. He can relate to her, because she has a twin. It's not exactly like she understands how it is for him to have lost Fred, but…she gets it. She gets him better than I could…I still feel badly, you know?" Angelina said, tearing up some more. I rushed to her side and she placed her forehead on my shoulder and sobbed for a moment. I just rubbed her back comfortingly.

"When I thought I'd never see you again, I thought about trying to just forget you and be with George. But it always felt…wrong, letting anyone else kiss me, letting anyone else touch me, the way you have," she said, her lips at my chest, speaking to my heart.

"George has felt more for me than I have for him. Sometimes I wish I could have returned those feelings, but I can't. I can't because I'm in love with you," she said, looking up into my eyes.

"It still hurts me that I hurt him. I care about him, Draco. I want you to understand that. It shouldn't make you jealous."

I finally understood, the sense being smacked into me.

"Baby, he did everything to help you. He was with me when I rescued you. He'll never forgive me, because it's my fault you've been through all of this. I can't blame him. If I were in his shoes I'd feel the same. He _knows_ that you still love him, though it's not the same as the love between us. Don't beat yourself up anymore. I'm sorry I questioned you—I was being brash…I just refuse to lose you to anything or anyone," I said. Lina slowly smiled and we embraced. I looked down into her dark eyes and kissed her. I meant it more than anything I'd ever done. I knew everything was going to be alright from that moment on. There was just something different about that kiss that put so much salvation in me.

"Draco," Lina said once I'd let her breathe.

"Yes, love."

"I think I need a vacation. I'm due to be released in a couple of days. How do you feel about Trinidad and Tobago?"


	17. Chapter 17

I was typing this up yesterday, half of it I'd written on some paper back in September or early October. I ran into a friend Tuesday night and we just sat and talked and ate dinner, and ended up talking for two and a half hours until the dining hall closed at midnight. It was nice because I'd spent my entire day taking a quiz, then an exam, then three hours tutoring for chemistry. I really needed that. I was over at my aunt's house for about an hour and a half, as it is Thanksgiving, after all. I was holding my baby second cousin, and he fell asleep. It was really adorable, I thought, though I still don't want children. Enough about my personal life, as if anyone who reads this really cares…

Angelina's colour had come back and her body wasn't looking so weak anymore, yet it was apparently protocol for patients to be wheeled out of the hospital at discharge. I walked alongside the nurse that was pushing Lina in the chair until we got outside. Lina thanked the nurse, grabbed my free hand, the other one holding a bag containing some of her items, and disapparated to her house. Without even saying a word, Angelina directed her wand at her closet and drawers, the clothes speedily folding themselves, and a suitcase sped out from under the bed, knocking my feet. I jumped in a bit of shock.

"You want to leave now?" I asked Angelina, as she approached the full length mirror to check her appearance. I then noticed my own clothes folding themselves out of Angelina's closet and into an open suitcase on the floor.

"Yes, Draco," she said simply.

"I just need…a change," she said, pulling her thick hair into a bun. She then turned around and started out of the room. I followed her downstairs where she stepped out the front door to check the mail.

"Lina?" I said carefully, "Is something wrong?"

She seemed a bit distant. A small gasp escaped her lips as she pulled an envelope from the mailbox.

"It's a letter from my parents—it's from three weeks ago," she explained, tearing it open, her eyes glancing over it. They soon watered.

"Lina?"

And with an exhausted exhale like a gust of wind, Lina fell forward.

"Angelina!" I screamed, catching her. She began to sob.

"What's wrong? What's happened?" I asked desperately.

"My…my grandfather is dead…I—I must have missed his funeral by now," she said quietly.

I pressed my lips to her forehead. She didn't cry for long before standing up.

"Are you alright?" I asked. Lina pressed her temples.

"I just want to go," she said. I nodded and we went back up to the bedroom, but not before I closed and locked the front door. The suitcases had finished packing themselves and Angelina went into the bathroom for a last few items.

"If there's anything else you want to take," Angelina said. I grabbed my razor and shaving cream before heading back to Angelina's room where she was waiting for me. After tucking some more things into the suitcases, she pointed her wand at the bags and they disappeared to the destination I soon found myself standing in, clutching Angelina's hand. I felt rather warm and looked down to find myself standing in sand, the luggage around us, the sound of the ocean behind me. It was magnificent when I looked. Angelina knocked on the door of the house before us. I turned around in time to see it open and a woman who looked somewhat familiar standing there. It quickly occurred to me that this was Angelina's mother, as I watched Lina sob into the woman's chest. Those mysteriously dark eyes belonging to the woman looked over her daughter's shoulder at me…

I had been curtly shown to a room, which was just about as luxurious-looking as one of the many guest rooms in my house. I thought of my father for an instant and quickly shook my head where I sat on the edge of a king size bed. Angelina had been crying with her parents for the past two hours. She spoke a language I'd never heard before, and I wondered if she was telling them all that happened to her in the past few months with me. I assumed she hadn't mentioned it, as I was sure her father would have kicked me out by now. I didn't intrude on the little reunion; I was a stranger in this house and I didn't want to make Angelina uncomfortable. But as I sat there, my mind racing, I grew more and more disquieted. At last, I stood up and ran to the mirror that was leering at me from where I sat, and without an ounce of control, let loose my frustrations. It didn't even sting me when I watched the blood trickle from my fist, the glass shatter to the floor. This was all my fault. If it hadn't been for me, if it hadn't have been for fucking Pansy, _none _of this would ever have happened. Angelina would never have been tortured within an inch of her life, _all because of me_. She never would have missed her grandfather's funeral. I paused and started to feel the pain in my hand… I stumbled back and fell to my knees, reaching into my pocket with my uninjured hand and fixing the mirror with my wand. I watched the pieces rewind and reset themselves, until the mirror was once again spotless, yet the blood dripped on the hardwood, staining it a deep red. I winced, picking glass out of my hand. I knew I had to get a hold of myself. Angelina wouldn't be pleased with me when she found out I'd hurt myself again because I couldn't control my emotions. And worse yet, I needed to talk to her about everything, about what Pansy had done. I didn't even want to _think_ about it! The bitch was dead, and that was all that mattered. I used my wand to sift through luggage, until I came across the same thing the doctor had given me before for my injuries. I silenced the pain and the cuts began to heal themselves. I took a deep breath and walked to the large window, pulling back the curtain to reveal a setting sun on the horizon. It was beautiful here. I pulled at my collar, and then just took my shirt off entirely. It was hot with the window open, the heat wafting inside. But I liked it. I could smell the salty ocean and the breeze was soothing. I hadn't left this room in two hours. I hadn't even been properly introduced to Angelina's parents. I wondered what they would think of me, if they'd have held my family's reputation against me. If anything, I wanted them to know how much I loved their daughter, and I was determined to prove myself to be the better man I'd become from being with Angelina. I stepped out of the room into the hall and headed down a long set of stairs. Finally, I could just begin to hear Angelina's fading sobs. She was sitting with her mother and father on a couch in a large room with the same large windows as were in the bedroom I'd been sitting in. She looked up at me from resting her head on her mother's shoulder. Both her mother's and father's gazes followed me. To my surprise, a smile lit her mother's face, as if she knew me already. She beckoned me and stood slowly, the dress she was wearing hitting the floor with such mellifluous grace that I thought she was in slow motion. She had long curly, dark brown hair with some hints of amber in it that I could just barely make out from the light coming in through the windows. Angelina's father was about my height when he stood to come shake my hand. Angelina stayed put on the couch.

"Draco Malfoy," said Mr. Johnson.

"Welcome to Trinidad and Tobago. We hope you've made yourself comfortable. This is Angelina's grandfather's house, although it now belongs to her. He left it in his will."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," I said honestly, glancing down, realizing I had forgotten to put another shirt on. I screamed at myself mentally, believing I'd already made a bad first impression with Angelina's parents.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you like. We will be returning to our house, just a few miles away from here to finish preparing for the funeral. It is in two days," her mother finished. With that, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson clasped hands and disapparated, leaving Angelina and I. I took a few steps towards her. She was staring into space where she sat, clutching a pillow. She didn't turn to look at me, so I knelt in front of her and placed my hands on her hips.

"Lina?" I asked quietly. She didn't even look at me. It was as if she was stuck in a trance.

"Baby…will you say something, please?" I asked. I took her hands, removing the pillow slowly. She closed her eyes and I kissed her hands.

"He's gone. I didn't even get to say goodbye," she whispered. I looked up into her eyes, which were still staring into space. I wasn't sure what else to do. I hated seeing her like this. She'd been through too much; first me, now this. I touched her cheek and her gaze finally shifted to me.

"I love you, Angelina," I said.

Her brows furrowed and fresh tears poured from her already reddened eyes. It was almost as if what I'd said had triggered the tears, but I knew she was just going through a difficult time. I sat on the couch beside her and pulled her into my arms. The heat made Angelina's body feel cold. And even as my palms began to sweat where they rested on her back, I held her tightly, until she fell asleep there and I stared through the dark window, the breeze wafting in, moths flying towards the candles which had lit themselves at some point. I found peace for a moment, looking down at Angelina sleeping. I dared not move; she needed the rest…

Somehow I managed to sleep where I was sitting back on the couch. The only reason I woke up was because I felt something moving. I looked down to find Angelina still in my arms, except she was shaking in what looked like distress.

"Lina?" I sat up, grabbing her shoulders. Her eyes stayed closed, but there was a hard look on her face. The features tightened in what looked like pain and she screamed. I knew I had to wake her up. I sat up with a start, picking her up to her feet as I stood.

"Angelina, wake up," I said firmly, trying to steady her and get her to stand. Her body thrust back as if by some strange force, and I felt her being ripped out of my arms—literally. I stood transfixed as she stayed afloat in midair for at least six seconds before she fell to the floor screaming, her eyes finally bursting open. She stared ahead, screaming, but I became aware that she wasn't seeing me even as I knelt in front of her, gripping her shoulders. She pulled away from me horrified, her eyes closing again, whatever nightmare she was having taking complete control. I panicked and pulled her into my arms again. She twisted and turned like a rag doll. Finally, I pulled my wand out of my pocket and directed it at her, charming her into a wakeful state. She stopped screaming but pulled away from me, clutching her shoulders.

"What the bloody hell was that?" I asked no one in particular.

"Angelina…you were floating just now."

"I-it's a side effect," she mumbled.

"Lina," I said, inching towards her. She moved further away, her eyes closing and the hard look on her face again. I touched her shoulder and she gasped.

"Draco, don't, _please_," she said. "I can still see them…their faces," she said. And I didn't have to ask her what she was talking about. The healers had told me there would be lasting effects—residual magic left over on Angelina from having experienced the Cruciatus Curse too many times to count, but this was the first instance in which I was actually seeing the devastating effects. Angelina was hyperventilating, clasping her chest as if she were being stabbed. Instinctively, I reached for her.

"I can still see her—I can still feel it," she said, her eyes so tightly closed that I wondered if she'd ever open them again. My blood boiled at the thought of Pansy. Pansy holding Angelina's wand.

"Don't! Draco—just stay away," Angelina ordered, wincing at my touch which only seemed to cause her further pain. My eyes burned for want of tears; I could do nothing to comfort her. I couldn't even touch her. Angelina lay sideways on the floor, holding herself, as if trying to keep the pieces together. I just moved closer and stared down at her.

"What can I do?" I finally asked, longing to pull Angelina into my arms again. Her body tensed up for a moment and it was as if an invisible force were lifting her off the floor. She was in pain again and I could see it written all over her face, yet she refrained from screaming. It subsided after about a minute and she just lay there, and I swore she no longer lived.

"Angelina," I said, my voice breaking in fear. I was suddenly reminded of my many nightmares that had scared Angelina at night. For the first time I realized how scary it must have been for her.

"They wanted to wait for me, my parents," she said. "They wanted to wait until I could be here for his funeral. I'd told them there was something I had to do back in England before they left…They didn't want me to miss his funeral. They didn't come home to tell me because my grandfather was dead by the time they got here. They didn't want to make things worse for me."

She said all of this to me without even opening her eyes. I glanced towards the large window where the sun was on the rise. It appeared to be staring in at Angelina and I on the floor, an absolute mess. Angelina took a deep breath, not releasing it. She stood up and started towards the stairs. I followed her unsurely, if only to see that she was okay. She walked in and out of rooms, opening doors and windows, closets.

"Are you looking for something?" I asked her once she finally happened upon the room all of our things were in. Lina approached the bed slowly.

"I remember this house," she said.

"I used to spend my summers here when I was little, with my cousins…" She sighed deeply.

"My grandmother is still here. She's living with my parents now; it's too hard for her to stay here without my grandfather." I watched Lina open a suitcase and start taking things out by hand. I wasn't sure if I should touch her yet, so I merely walked up behind her until I was close enough that she felt my presence. She paused, placing a dress on the bed, and then it occurred to me that she was trying to find something to wear for the funeral. She sighed once, and then a second time, dropping her head, her face falling into her hands. I didn't need to see her face to know she was crying again. I wondered how many tears she'd shed ever since I'd known her. Too many, I knew. I didn't need any signs before my embrace found its way around Lina. After a few seconds, she turned around and fell into my arms.

"It's going to be okay, Lina," I said.

"How can you say that? Lately it seems that one bad thing follows the other…I can't get away from it," she said with frustration. I hoped with all of my heart that this would be the last thing to make her cry so much. I wanted things to just be _okay_ for us.


	18. Chapter 18

I've had an excerpt from this chapter written for nearly two months, and was just waiting to use it. I'm already fabricating a new Draco and Angelina story. I was just taking a break from studying for finals. I get to go home this coming Friday, during which time there will be _plenty_ of time for writing.

I couldn't stop watching Angelina as we sat at the dining room table, eating some food her mother had brought over the previous night. I had no idea what I was eating, but there were all kinds of spices and things I hadn't tried before and I liked the taste. Angelina barely finished half her plate before she stopped and stared towards the window.

"Baby?"

She stood up and started out of the room. I followed shortly after, taking my cold glass of water with me. Angelina had left the front door open. I could see her walking towards the water, the sun shining relentlessly in my eyes as I stepped out. I'd never seen such intensity of light before, and it took a good while before my eyes felt moderately comfortable. Lina paused a few feet from the waves that were rolling in. I approached her. She sat down just as I made it to her side. I looked at her but she stared off into the vast expanse of ocean before us.

"When I was a little girl, I always wondered what my life would be like after I graduated from Hogwarts. I always told myself I would do something to make my parents proud, but now I don't even know what that thing is…I thought I would be a professional Quidditch player, but I don't enjoy the game nearly as much as I used to. I have no idea what I'm doing with my life…I never thought I'd end up with someone like you," she said.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I asked. Angelina looked towards me slowly.

"I don't regret falling in love with you, Draco, if that's what you're asking. This just doesn't feel real; everything I've been through ever since our accident. And you…watching you fight your own demons. If ever there was an award for making it through tribulations, I think we'd win, Draco."

At that I giggled a bit. I saw a flicker of a smile on Angelina's face. I didn't expect her to suddenly cozy up to me, and I was surprised when she rested her head on my bare shoulder. I'd stopped wearing shirts; it was much too hot here for that. I had somewhat of a lack of summer clothes; England was always colder and I'd honestly never traveled to a tropical place. Lina sighed and then I felt her lips on my shoulder. They were soft and ethereal, waiting for my kiss. She looked up at me and the sun shined off her brown eyes, illuminating them so that I could make out the indigo pupils which dilated when she looked at me. She clasped my hand. I leant down to kiss her. It was a long, sweet kiss, the kind that reawakens your love for somebody. It occurred to me then that it had been a very long time. Angelina made her way onto my lap, pushing aside her sundress so that I felt the heat of her skin. The sun was covered over by a passing set of clouds and I didn't have to squint anymore as I gazed down at her. She put her hands on my shoulders and beckoned me to lie back, kissing me until I felt the hot sand against my back. It nearly burned for a few seconds before I was comfortable. I grasped Angelina's waist but as my eyes were closed, an unwanted memory began to fill my head…I opened my eyes and it was _Pansy_ grinning down at me, rolling her hips forth, her mouth open and moaning. I jumped up with a start, shoving her off me, and as soon as I did this, it was my Angelina again, looking at me with wide eyes, wondering why the devil I pushed her away so abruptly. I gasped, pulling my hand over my mouth. Angelina was sitting in the sand a bit disheveled from my push.

"Dr-Draco?" she asked, reaching for me. I closed my eyes tightly and shook my head, shook Pansy out of my mind.

"I-I'm sorry," I said, opening my eyes again and feeling a bit of relief when it was still Lina looking at me in confusion.

"Did I do something wr—?"

"N-no. It's me—I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Lina. Excuse me," I said, standing up. I backed up a few steps and Angelina watched me in confusion before I walked back into her house. I staggered to the bathroom and made it just in time to be sick right into the toilet. I toppled to my knees and threw up every last bit of the food I'd just eaten. But I knew it wasn't the food that made me sick; it was the flashback. I wept, feeling horribly. Angelina was probably still sitting out there all alone wondering why I was revolted by her touch. But it _wasn't_ Angelina. She was having the same problems as I, these terrible memories and flashbacks. I began to wonder if what she'd said was true, that she couldn't get away from it. I couldn't seem to get away from it, either…

Angelina did not come back into the house until the sun started to set, but I was standing at the windows, watching her the whole time. She had her knees pulled to her chest, staring at the ocean. I tried not to picture her sorrowful expression, but I knew it was there. I felt badly about everything, about all she'd suffered because of me. I kept wondering if I should have just stayed away from her for good. I couldn't bare it to see anymore horrible things happen to her, yet I dared not leave. Sickening as it was, we both needed each other. I knew I wouldn't have lived out a happy and content life without her, so I stayed put. When the sun was nearly gone and the moths began to fly into the house, I decided to go and get Angelina. I found a massive bug of some sort sitting on the handle of the door when I reached for it. Disgusted, I pulled out my wand and charmed it away, and then I went about the house charming the windows so that the bugs could no longer enter. I pulled a silky sheet off the couch and took it with me outside. It was amazing how low the temperature dropped as soon as the sun was gone. I cast light from my wand, as it was so dark I could hardly see Angelina sitting where she was on the beach.

"Lina, come inside now. You're going to get bitten by mosquitoes," I said, kneeling and placing the sheet about her shoulders. She pulled away from it when she felt it.

"I've already been bitten," she mumbled, standing and making her way to the door, this time leaving me outside by myself. I had a feeling she was upset with me, and I knew it was probably about earlier. I sighed. I wanted to explain to her, but I didn't even want to ever say Pansy's putrid name again. I heard the bath running when I went into the house, but it was coming from a different room other than the one Angelina and I were staying in. I walked around the house until I came upon a type of open area at the back of the house. It was literally outdoors, but charmed so that the bugs and wild plants couldn't come in on that area. There was a very large stone tub built into the floor. It looked more like a small swimming pool. Angelina's back was to me where she was sitting in the water. I realized I had stood on her dress. I picked it up and charmed it so that it floated there neatly where it would be safe from wrinkling. I unbuckled my belt and pulled off my rolled up trousers, followed by my knickers. Angelina ignored the sound of me walking towards the tub, even when I got in beside her. She had her eyes closed. My nose was met with a pleasant camphoraceous scent and I drew my attention to the oil that Angelina was rubbing on her arms, on bug bites. She sunk into the water until she was fully submerged. I watched her sit there for a few seconds before she slowly began to exhale, bubbles breaching the surface. I became nervous and yanked her up under the arms until her head was above the water.

"Draco—what the hell are you doing?" she asked me in agitation.

"I—I—"

"I'm taking a bath, _relax_," she said. I took a deep breath and let her go slowly. Her hair was wet and she started to lather it up with shampoo. I waded out in front of her.

"What did you think I was doing?" she asked, eying me cautiously.

"Don't be silly," I said, although she knew why I'd become nervous in the first place. She closed her eyes, the camphoraceous scent once again meeting my nose. She dunked her head under and I watched the foamy suds scatter about the water, and shortly disappear, the water sparkling clean and clear. When she rinsed the suds away, she started to put something else in her hair. It smelled beautiful and I stepped closer to watch her. Lina's eyes stayed closed and I got the feeling she was unaware of how close I was as I looked down on her, close enough that the tip of my nose nearly touched hers. She sighed and her sweet breath hit me like a breeze. I closed my eyes, breathing her in. She gasped and I felt her hands on my chest.

"Draco…are you feeling alright?"

I looked down at Angelina who was now looking up at me. I felt my eyes water, but blinked back the tears.

"I knew something was wrong," she said quietly, stroking my cheek.

"L-Lina…I never meant to. She used the Imperius Curse on me," I explained.

"I _never wanted to bloody touch her again_. But she _made_ me," I said through gritted teeth, feeling the anger clench me again.

"It's not your fault," Angelina said immediately. The sincerity with which she looked upon me led me to realize she was not angry with me, and I didn't have to say who I was talking about for her to understand. We'd both had our bloody share of Pansy's cruelty.

"I just don't _understand_," I said with frustration.

"There _is_ nothing to understand," Angelina said, "she used the _Imperius Curse_, Draco."

"Yes, but I was able to resist when she tried to make me tell her I loved her. She told me to say it and I could resist that, then why couldn't I stop myself entirely?"

"The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak," Angelina said quietly, almost as if she hadn't really meant for me to hear.

"What?"

"N-nothing, just something I remember from Sunday school," she said, shaking her head.

"What's Sunday School?" I asked in honest curiosity. There were various Muggle things that I still didn't understand. That was one solid difference between Angelina and my upbringing. Angelina wiped the tears that I didn't even realize were falling down my face.

"I don't blame you," Angelina said. By this I was honestly baffled.

"But everything that happened to you, it was _my_ fault," I said, waiting for her to walk away from me and never come back, but she stayed put.

"Draco, the only way we can move past all of those horrors is to actually move past them. Let's do that, together," she said. I nodded.

"I don't think you'll ever understand how much I love you," I said.

"I believe I do," Angelina responded. She planted a kiss on my chin and then turned her back to reach for soap from somewhere. The horror of Pansy left me with Angelina's words and I didn't restrain myself from grabbing her hips and pulling her towards me. I wrapped my arms firmly around her middle and she sighed deeply and long, and then in an uncharacteristically fragile voice said, "Draco, I am so exhausted."

"Are you angry with me?" I asked. I only wanted honesty. She merely took each of my wrists and unclasped my grip.

"No."

To which question I'd asked, tacitly or verbally, I wasn't quite sure she meant to answer.

"You don't want to make love?"

She proceeded to lather up a sponge, her back still to me. Angelina tilted her head.

"I'm going to see my nana in the morning, so she can do my hair for the funeral. It's already past one," she explained. I'd seemed to have lost all sense of time and space here. It was just overwhelmingly bright. I let myself fall back and floated there a while, the water creating a white noise in my ears that prevented me further from feeling connected with reality. Shortly, I saw Angelina rise from the water, her chestnut skin glistening and wet. I nearly wept with desire as she hastily wrapped a towel about her figure and proceeded from the room, leaving me to mull over our conversation. I decided to bathe myself and go to sleep. When I came to the room, Angelina was already fast asleep. I was quiet and pulled on a pair of briefs before climbing in gently next to her. I carefully enclosed her frame. My face fit perfectly in her big hair. It was comfortingly soft on my face and I fell asleep with that scent in my nostrils. When I awoke she was gone. I sat up and a small note unfolded itself in front of my face, floating there waiting for me to read it.

"Gone to gran's up the road," I read aloud. When I reached for the note, it fell apart and disappeared in an amusing mess of sparkles. I stood and pulled back the shade. It looked to be around high noon, as the sun shone in on me relentlessly. I heard my stomach growl as I got dressed and started out of Angelina's house. I walked around the house and a little ways up the beach until I found a small path that appeared to go through some bush. I wasn't sure exactly where I was going, but I just started walking. Somehow it felt like I was going the right way. Perhaps I'd never even needed a piece of Lina's soul to tell where she was, because after a while I found her sitting on the porch of a rather beautiful house with a lady sitting on a stool behind her. I wiped my brow and found it covered with sweat. Angelina's eyes were closed, and the lady sitting behind her was weaving something, and as I approached it occurred to me that she was doing something with Angelina's hair. Angelina's eyes were closed and the lady did not seem to notice me even as I stood about four feet away.

"Good afternoon," I said.

Angelina's eyes popped open and she looked up to see me, my tall frame blocking the sun from her eyes. The lady looked up from where she had just finished braiding and said something to me that I didn't understand. Angelina proceeded to explain something to her, and slowly a smile filled the face of the lady, who for an instant I'd mistaken for Angelina's mother, but then it occurred to me that this was her grandmother. The lady stood off her stool, having finished with Angelina's hair. She brushed her hands on her apron and shook mine. Her skin felt surprisingly cool to me. She disappeared into the house and Angelina stood and yawned. I watched braids cascade down her shoulders, and then she laughed at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You're mouth is open like you've just been stunned," she said. I grinned.

"As a matter of fact, I have been…you look amazing," I said, reaching out my hands without even thinking, and then I paused.

"Can I touch it?" I asked.

She nodded.

"I remember…it was second year, maybe. I remember it used to be like this," I said, taking in the sight of her, twisting a braid between my fingers.

"Really?" Angelina asked honestly, in a tone that even surprised me.

"I remember because that's when I started playing Quidditch. You were on the team for Gryffindor."

Angelina looked confounded that I was recalling all of this just by touching her hair. I was equally as confounded when she smashed her lips against mine. I placed my hands on her waist, and then I heard her grandmother say something. I detached myself immediately, leaving Angelina with her eyes closed. I felt my face flush up and the fact that it was already hot out didn't help much. Angelina's grandmother made her way between us, presenting us each with a cold glass of water. I definitely needed it, and thanked her before downing it in just about one go.

"Come on, let's have lunch," Lina said, taking my hand and leading me inside after her grandmother. I was even hungrier than I'd been when I left the house.

End Draco's POV

My nana's curry was something I'd missed; I hadn't had it in nearly two years. Draco made a pleasant sound, inhaling the scent of the two plates my nana set down on the table.

"Thank you," he said to her before she smiled in return and disappeared back to the kitchen. Draco's eyes sped all over the plate.

"What is it?" he asked me curiously, picking up his fork. I found him very amusing when faced with Muggle things he knew so little of. The side of Draco's mouth turned up in a sly grin.

"Curry, spicy," I said before taking my first long awaited bite. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste.

"I've never had anything like this before...smells good."

I looked at Draco to find him bringing the fork to his lips. He blew it for a few seconds before putting the food in. He chewed for approximately three seconds before he paused and his pale face took on a rubor unlike one I'd ever seen before. He swallowed hard, his nostrils flaring as tears began to flow from his eyes. He began to cough like a madman. He looked so funny to me as he fanned himself with both hands, and shortly clutched his throat. I knew what he was experiencing, as that had been my first reaction to my grandmother's cooking. Draco nearly keeled over before I grabbed the glass of milk beside his plate and gave it to him. He drank it so fast that some of it spilled down his chin, and slowly but surely, the spiciness lessened and Draco's face began to return to a normal shade.

"Merlin's _beard_, Angelina...why didn't you warn me?" Draco asked, wiping his eyes. I laughed and my nana came out of the kitchen, replacing Draco's plate with a non-spicy curry.

"I said, 'spicy,' honey," I said.

"He couldn't handle it?" My nana asked in Trinidadian.

"Sorry?" Draco said, glancing up as she swapped his plate.

"Never mind. That one isn't hot," I informed him.

"It was delicious. I'm just not used to eating essence of dragon's fire," said Draco. I laughed again.

"What's so funny, Lina?" He asked me seriously. I shook my head.

"Nothing. Eat."

Draco looked down at the new plate apprehensively. I giggled.

"It's safe. I promise."

Even though I reassured him, Draco took a miniscule forkful this time. When he trusted that it wasn't too spicy, he ate normally, letting me know he thought it tasted good, and to compliment my nana.


	19. Chapter 19

I woke up the morning of my grandfather's funeral to the sound of Draco's heart beating. It was a peculiar sound, I thought, blinking into a full state of wakefulness. The heat of the day was already all over my body, and my ear felt to be about a thousand degrees where it was pressed against Draco's skin. Instead of lifting my head, I just lay there for a bit and listened to it. His arm lay asleep across my shoulders, where it had been the night before when we went to sleep. I sat up slowly, the birds' tropical song greeting my ears. I looked down at Draco sleeping. He looked at peace, his hair a bit disheveled. The further I sat up, the more the braids cascaded out of the ponytail that had been intact when I went to sleep. I felt much better; I had thoroughly cried myself to sleep in Draco's arms. Sometimes all one needs is a good cry. The sadness came in waves, some moments hitting harder than others. I stepped carefully out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. I finished and washed my hands under the cold water. It felt nice apart from the heat that was already in the air. I glanced at the open closet where I'd hung the dress I wanted to wear the night before. I felt my eyes burn for a second but I didn't feel like crying anymore. I walked back to the bed and carefully sat down beside Draco, who was still sleeping. We had about three hours until the funeral at noon, so I thought I'd let him sleep a bit longer. I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my chin atop them, memories of my childhood in this house filling my head. I closed my eyes and it felt like I was there again, running about the beach with my cousins, planting in the garden with my mom and nana. I swear I could smell the flowers we planted one summer when I was eleven years old.

"Love?" Draco said, finally peering over my shoulder to meet my face. I hadn't even noticed his arms around my knees, the hands planted firmly atop my own. I wondered how long I had failed to notice.

"There's something I wanted to ask you," he said.

"Huh?"

Draco crawled in front of me so that I was facing him. I crossed my legs and placed my hands in my lap, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"Draco, you're not going to ask me to marry you the day of my grandfather's funeral, are you?" I asked honestly. Draco's eyes widened for a second.

"No, of course not," he said.

"I sort of…invited my mother to the funeral. She's been trying to keep in touch with me. I haven't told her exactly where we are or anything, so if you don't want her to come, just say the words," he said, holding my hands, a hopeful look on his face.

"You're right—I'm sorry. I should have asked you first," he explained when I didn't respond.

"No, it's okay," I said. Draco looked at me in disbelief.

"_Really_? You don't hate her?" he asked.

"No. She's done nothing to me. Why should I?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd say yes…now, it's just that…she'll probably want to bring my father. I told you what happened with him, didn't I?" Draco asked cautiously. It was as if he was waiting for me to get angry, but honestly, I wasn't feeling like letting anyone get to me anymore. I shook my head for no.

"Well, he's not the same. He's not himself anymore. My mum, well, she sort of cast a spell. He doesn't even remember who Voldemort was or that he was a Death Eater. I'm not saying I forgive him for anything, but he's completely innocuous at this point. He's no longer a threat."

"So you want to know if I mind him coming here, to my grandfather's funeral," I said factually.

Draco nodded.

"I thought you hated him, Draco," I said, honestly confused.

"I realized that it's been I who I've hated more this whole time. My father was a coward and that's the only reason he ever became a Death Eater. It's the only reason he ever tried to bring me to Voldemort's side. He never would have done it otherwise," Draco said, his eyes darting back and forth as he glanced down, as if reading the words he was saying from a piece of parchment.

"Like I said, it's not that I forgive him for _anything_, I just want to see my mum."

Draco's honesty was almost tangible. I leant in and kissed him on the forehead. He closed his eyes and took my face in his hands before I could pull away, and he kissed me lingeringly.

"I just want to be with you," he said. I crawled into his lap and buried my face in his chest. Draco passed his hands down my back in a comforting manner. With each and every day, the pain lessened.

Draco on my right was holding my hand tightly and looking on as the high priestess spoke. I leant forward just a bit to catch a glimpse of his teary-eyed mother who sat beside him, Lucius next to her. I never thought I would ever see that wizard cry, but he was holding his wife's hand just as Draco was holding mine. Watching as the high priestess lifted her wandless hands, I dabbed my nose which began to drip the tears I wouldn't allow to escape from my eyes.

"Requiescat in pace." I watched the shrouded form descend beneath the sand where the earth slowly enclosed it in a deep sepulcher. The waves rose towards the area and left the sand looking untouched, leaving a large, smooth stone above the place to mark it. I was too emotionally exhausted to cry as I watched and a moment of silence ensued. I nearly shed a tear when I glanced over at my family crying. When the ceremony was over, I was greeted by my family members one at a time, as they offered their kind words and condolences. Draco never left my side until I let go of his hand and stepped towards the stone, deep beneath which the body of my grandfather now resided. I ran my hand over it and the inscription shimmered magically with newness. I backed up a few steps and just stared at it. I felt someone near me, a warm hand on my shoulder.

"Draco, I hope this is the last death I deal with for the next five hundred years."

"As do I." Except the voice that said it wasn't Draco's, yet vaguely reminiscent. I glanced to my left and looked up to find Lucius Malfoy looking down somberly upon me. I almost screamed and pulled away, but then remained calm where I stood, though my heart pounded in utmost fear as Lucius began to speak again.

"I'm so sorry, Angelina," he said. "What a terrible loss. You will, I'm sure, find comfort in my condolences." I was even further shocked when Lucius hugged me, his blonde hair shielding my view of the world like some sort of blanket under which I'd fallen. I was about to ask Lucius if he was daft, if he had forgotten all about using his little minions to lock me away in Azkaban just to spite Draco. It was the strangest hug I'd ever received. His scent reminded me of Draco and I started to feel a bit less hatred towards Lucius. It still so strange; he was the last person I ever expected to find myself trapped in a hug with. I could hear Narcissa's voice not far behind me. She was talking to Draco about the beach, asking him how he'd been. I heard her say something about a spell, that it would occasionally wear off every now and then. It was as if Lucius didn't even notice. I felt the urge to laugh but contained it. As Lucius was letting me go, I could see Draco swiftly making his way over.

"Are you alright, Lina?" he asked me, practically stepping between his father and me and placing his hands on my hips. He kissed me. Despite how harmless Lucius had become, I could sense Draco's tension around him.

"Son, I feel like I haven't seen you in months. Haven't I?" Lucius asked, as if meeting his son for the first time. I watched Draco's eyes close for a few seconds. He seemed to be trying to suppress an urge. He smiled and turned around to greet his father.

"Yeah, don't you remember, dad? I moved here with Angelina two months ago," Draco said, planting false memories in his father's mind. Lucius scratched his head a moment, tilting it and gazing skywards, desperately trying to remember.

"Really?" he asked. Narcissa rushed to Lucius's side and he stopped trying to remember and instead looked down at her.

"Angelina," said Narcissa, "I'm sorry for your loss…look at this place, though. I've never seen anything quite like it," she said, her stone cold eyes scanning the horizon.

"Yeah, it's paradise, isn't it?" I said. Although he couldn't remember a bloody thing he'd done, it would have been nice to hear another apology from Lucius, for him to genuinely be sorry about trying to keep Draco and I apart.

"It seems that all we ever do these days is attend funerals," said Lucius, glancing over at my grandfather's headstone. No one bothered to remind him of Voldemort's defeat, the Battle of Hogwarts, the fact that Draco and I, Lucius himself even fought in it.

"Sad; we witches and wizards live so long, and yet, with so little time. You never know when you'll be saying goodbye."

Draco clasped my hand and I never felt safer.

The End


End file.
